


Tactics

by greenteafiend



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Hand Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Sharing a Bed, Smut, Switching, Top Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-01-08 23:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12264111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenteafiend/pseuds/greenteafiend
Summary: It was tactics. Honestly, it was. There was only so many times Lance could stand to be flipped and pinned to the floor, or the wall, or find himself panting and generally staring up at the smug look on Keith’s face before drastic action was called for.So Lance kissed him.aka Lance finds out that kissing Keith is a great tactic for distraction, and it inevitably turns into a competition. Lance thinks it’s the natural next step in their rivalry, and he refuses to be bested.The only thing is, Keith never considered it a competition.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This began with a prompt from [this](http://the-modern-typewriter.tumblr.com/) tumblr
> 
> You should check it out, there's some good inspiration there :)
> 
> The indented part at the beginning was the prompt!

 

 

> It was tactics. Honestly, it was. There was only so many times Lance could stand to be flipped and pinned to the floor, or the wall, or find himself panting and generally staring up at the smug look on Keith’s face before drastic action was called for. 

> So Lance kissed him.  
>    
>  Keith was probably expecting a head-butt, but Lance kissed him instead. And, okay, so maybe he got a bit distracted for a moment or so there, fingers curling into Keith’s hair, pressing closer because he was a surprisingly good kisser and -

> And then Lance was pinned to the floor, with a dark-eyed Keith on top of him with a rather… intent look on his face. 

> Lance swallowed, mouth dry. Unable to look away. 

> “That,” Keith said, breathing a little heavier now. “Was a  _filthy_ trick.” 

 

“It was hardly _filthy_ -” Lance scoffed, ignoring his better judgement that perhaps now was a bad time to push Keith, “-I thought it was pretty tame.”

“ _Tame?!_ ” cried Keith incredulously.

“Yeah, _tame_. You know, chaste. Innocent. PG-rated.”

“You had your _tongue_  in my  _mouth_!” 

“Well you put yours in mine too! You don’t see _me_  complaining about it.”

“What do _you_  have to complain about?  _You’re_  the one who started it!” It was almost funny how hysterical Keith was. If Lance had known that a simple kiss was enough to crack the composure of the oh-so-cool red paladin, maybe he would have tried it earlier. 

“Would you like me to finish it?”

Lance’s tone was calibrated to garner a response - sultry with a crooked smirk. Lance wasn’t disappointed.

Keith _gaped_ at him, squeezing his wrists in a bone crushing grip. Best of all, to Lance’s unending delight, Keith  _blushed._ He actually  _blushed,_ pink painting his cheeks and creeping down his pale neck. 

There was just something  _so_  captivating, so _alluring,_ about throwing Keith off balance. Lance couldn’t beat Keith in a fist fight, but he  _would_ best him at this… Whatever this was.   

For a moment Lance thought Keith was actually going to head-butt him. Or kiss him.  _Good_ , he was getting under Keith’s skin; that meant he was winning. 

Abruptly, Keith released him and got up, wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand.

He marched out of the training room in high dungeon, every line of his body furiously rigid.

“I’ll take that as a no, let me know if you change your mind!” Lance called after his retreating figure.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance couldn’t resist teasing Keith, just a little, over the next few days.

It was just so satisfying to make Keith stutter or blush, and it was also so ridiculously _easy_. All he had to do was wink, or even shoot him a cheeky grin, and Keith would barely be able to meet his gaze, cheeks flushing attractively. It felt good. It felt like he was winning their little war, and this new form of combat was a lot more fun and a lot less painful than what they used to do.  

And then a week later, Keith decided to fight back.

One evening when Lance was fresh out of the showers, there came an impatient knock at his door.

“Coming, hang on a sec!” he hollered, yanking on some boxers and slinging his towel around his shoulders so his hair wouldn’t drip down his torso.

The door slid open to revel Keith, who was pacing. His hair stuck up as if he’d been running his hands through it.

“Lance I-” Keith made a choked cut off sound and his face turned bright red.

Lance leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms with a shit-eating grin. Keith was pretty obviously checking him out. Before blasting off into space, Lance had been in good shape. He swam regularly, and he always did well in the Garrison fitness tests. Now, after months of paladin training and pushing his body to the limits, his was in _phenomenal_ shape.

“Eyes up here samurai,” he teased. Keith did as he said.

“You told me to let you know if I change my mind,” he snapped, gaze hot.

Lance felt a little tendril of nervousness curl in his gut. He pushed it away. He wouldn’t lose his cool, that would mean Keith was winning.

“Is this you letting me know?” he intended to sound cocky, but his voice came out sounding hoarse. He swallowed.

“Yeah, it is,” said Keith, brushing past Lance’s shoulder to march into the room.

“By all means come on in,” said Lance sarcastically, turning around.

“Now, what are you propo-- _oomph_ -”

As soon as the door had swished shut, Keith was on him.

Keith’s mouth was hot and slick against his, and it felt so _so_ good.

Their last kiss had been colored by Keith’s shock, he’d reacted passively, allowing Lance to tentatively explore his mouth, and exploring Lance’s mouth tentatively in turn.

This time was different.

This time, Lance could _taste_ Keith’s hunger. Hunger for _him_. It was intoxicating, it was addicting, and when Keith bit down on his bottom lip and _sucked_ , an involuntary moan managed to worm its way out of his throat.

He felt Keith smirk against his mouth, obviously pleased with himself for making Lance lose control.

Lance couldn’t have that.

So he gripped Keith’s biceps and reversed their positions, pushing Keith up against the door. Keith didn’t even try to resist, if anything he went pliant in under Lance’s hands, allowing Lance to grip the hair brushing the nape of his neck and tilt his jaw back so Lance could trail wet open-mouth kisses down his neck…

Keith let out a breathy sigh and rested one hand on the pane of Lance’s bare chest, and the other at his side, brushing a thumb gently over Lance’s left hip bone, which had Lance's hips stuttering forward to grind into Keith involuntarily.

They both gasped at the friction, and Lance forgot to think. He forgot it was a competition, he only had room in his head left to _feel_ ; Keith’s soft hair tangled between his fingers, the smoothness of Keith’s cheek against Lance’s other palm, the hot press of Keith’s fingers into his pec, the dizzying nudge of Keith’s thumb against his hipbone, and the delicious friction of their pelvises being pressing together over and over...   

With an embarrassing groan he abandoned Keith’s neck in favor of his lips, and Keith’s hot mouth opened for him willingly, letting their tongues slide together enthusiastically.

Lance didn’t know how long they stayed like, pressed together against his door kissing and rocking into each other desperately, but it all came to a crashing halt when someone knocked at his door.

“Hey Lance, dinner’s bout to be served, you coming?” called Hunk.

Lance removed his hands from Keith’s hair and face and leaned his palms flat against the door on either side of Keith’s head, easing away. Keith’s hands twitched away from Lance, coming to rest limply at his sides. Even though they weren’t touching anymore, they were still close enough that Lance could feel the heat radiating off Keith’s body.

Wide violet eyes stared at him in frozen shock, and Lance was sure that the expression on his own face was probably similar.   

He had to clear his throat twice before he felt steady enough to reply.

“Sure meet you there, just changing,” shit, his voice still sounded absolutely _wrecked_.

There was a pause.

“You feeling okay? Your voice sounds funny…”

“Feeling peachy,” Lance squeaked.

“Alright, see you in a minute…”

They both breathed a sigh of relief as Hunk’s steady footsteps retreated.

“Well the coast is clear. I _do_ actually have to get changed so…”

“Right I’ll go.”

Neither of them made a move to do anything.

“Lance? You’re kind of caging me in here…” muttered Keith, cheeks pink.

“Oh, whoops.”

Lance lowered his arms as if the door had burned him, scratching the back of his head.

Wow, this was awkward. 

Keith darted in suddenly and brushed a chaste peck against Lance’s cheek that for some reason made all the blood rush to Lance’s face.

When he saw this, Keith looked nothing short of delighted.

“See you later,” he said cheerfully, before letting himself out and disappearing from sight as the door swished closed. 

Lance fell forward and let his forehead thump against the closed door. The metal was still warm from when Keith had been pressed up against it.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed.

Although he hated to admit it, this round had definitely gone to Keith.

He’d have to up his game if he wanted to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha
> 
> What am I doing with my life?
> 
> Well, I've never attempted to write anything remotely smutty before, generally I just read other people's excellent smut so I thought to myself its time to give back and there's no time like the present, lets do this lol
> 
> I'll write more provided I don't catch fire and spontaneously combust.
> 
> Now, please comfort me.
> 
> lol


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance figures that turnabout is fair play, so he visits Keith's room.

After one-upping Lance in his own room, Keith miraculously regained his composure and Lance’s old tricks ceased rattle him, much to Lance’s frustration.  

When Lance winked at him over breakfast, Keith kept eye-contact.

When Lance grinned at him cheekily during briefing, Keith grinned right back.

The first time that happened it was _Lance_ who turned red, because he couldn’t remember Keith ever having _smiled_ at him like that, all soft and fond. Like looking at Lance made him happy or something. And Lance’s red face only seemed to fuel that smile, to somehow make it _brighter._

Keith had obviously upped his defenses; he’d figured out how to not get flustered by Lance’s teasing.

So a few days later Lance decided that enough was enough, it was time for him to pay a visit to Keith’s room to continue their battle where it left off last time.

He knocked on the door and waited.

“Yeah?” called Keith.

The door swished open and Lance let himself in.    

Keith was standing there in his regular clothes, black jeans black shirt. If Lance were being totally honest with himself, he was a little disappointed that Keith hadn’t opened the door dripping wet wearing only boxers like he had last time, but whatever.

“Hi Lance,” Keith greeted, with that stupidly soft smile. Something about it make Lance’s heart lurch in his chest, and made his blood pump faster.  

Lance decided that he wanted to kiss that smile off his face.

“Hey Keith,” to his own ears his voice sounded low, _rough_. Keith’s cheeks flushed and it made him look stupidly attractive. _Finally,_ a crack in that composure! Something about flustered Keith made Lance feel _bold,_ so he sauntered over.   

“So… What are you doing?” Lance asked as he moved closer.

Keith stayed frozen in the middle of the room, watching him approach. 

“Uh, I’m-I was just-”

When he was close enough, Lance gently grasped both of Keith’s wrists and started pulling him backwards towards his bed. Keith trudged forward obediently like he was in a trace, blinking owlishly. It was a heady feeling having Keith like this, _deferential_. It did something to Lance, made him feel confident enough to take on a whole platoon of Galra with just his bayard.  

“You were just what Keith?” prompted Lance patiently, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I wasn’t-I mean, I was uh-” Lance tugged gently until Keith was standing between his spread legs, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Do you want to know what _I_ think _we_ should be doing?” Lance interrupted, placing Keith’s hands on his shoulders before letting go of his wrists so he could put his hands on Keith’s hips.

He rubbed his thumbs against Keith’s hipbone, mimicking what Keith did to him last time, and Keith _whimpered,_ squeezing his shoulders. Lance couldn’t help but smirk because he was _winning_ and it felt _amazing._

“W-what?” Keith sounded breathless and he looked mesmerized. Lance had him right where he wanted him.

“How about you come down here and I show you?” he said smoothly, patting his own thighs in clear invitation, hardly believing his own audacity.

Lance watched with baited breath as emotions flickered over Keith’s face; first shock, then disbelief, and then it settled into something _hot_ and _hungry_.

Hot and hungry looked really fucking good on Keith’s face, and Lance felt his mouth go dry…

And then Keith was sinking gracefully onto his lap, legs settling on either side of Lance’s, his forearms resting on Lance’s shoulders.

Holy shit. Lance could hardly believe that he’d _actually_ done it, it was too much like a wet dream come true having _Keith Kogane_ warm and willing in his arms.

It set Lance’s imagination on fire, and suddenly there were a hundred things he wanted to do to Keith, and about a hundred more things he wanted Keith to do to him, but he could hardly think through the sheer _heat_ rushing through his veins.

“Now what?” Keith asked softly, tilting his head to one side, violet eyes luminous.  

The first thing Lance wanted was his tongue in Keith’s mouth and his fingers in Keith’s hair, so he reached up and buried both hands in that mullet and dragged Keith’s face down so he could kiss him.  

He only had to brush his tongue against the seam of Keith’s mouth to get him to part those lips, and then Keith _melted_ against him.

There was really no other word for it. He slumped forward against Lance’s chest, and surrendered completely, giving Lance free reign to taste and lick.

Lance couldn’t hold back the groan that bubbled out of his throat if he tried. There was something about Keith being so uncharacteristically docile, something about the way he tasted, was just so _so_ intoxicating.

And then having his hands buried in Keith’s hair wasn’t enough.   

He let them trail down Keith’s throat to brush past his collarbones, caressing Keith’s chest before settling at his waist.

Keith’s whole body shivered at the touch, and he broke the kiss so he could gasp.

Without missing a beat, Lance let his lips kiss across Keith’s sharp jawline, and before licking and biting down his neck.

“Oh my god, _Lance_ ,” whispered Keith shakily, squeezing Lance’s shoulders even tighter.

Lance paused what he was doing and smirked against the curve of Keith’s neck.

“Need me to stop hot shot?” he rumbled, hands leaving Keith’s waist to stroke languidly from his knees to his hips.

Keith’s muscles jumped under his fingertips, warm and strong, and he gave Lance another one of those breathy little gasps, right into his ear.  

“ _No!_ ” he cried emphatically, tightening his grip on Lance’s shoulders.

Lance pulled away from Keith’s neck so he could look at his face.

Keith’s perfect cheekbones were suffused with the mother of all blushes. He looked _dazed_ , in the best way possible, and Lance couldn’t help but throw back his head to laugh.

Because he never would have predicted that Keith would be so… so goddamn _cute_.

Keith was just so badass normally, risking his life on the regular and walking it off like it was nothing. He was so fearless and reckless; the epitome of _cool_ … and now he was a blushing adorable mess on Lance’s lap, and it was the greatest thing ever.

Keith’s face screwed into an angry pout in the face of Lance’s mirth and he scrambled off Lance to stand back up, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Lance missed his warm weight immediately.

“Fuck you Lance! If you’re going to just laugh-”

“Hey hey hey, don’t be like that-” Lance soothed with a jaunty grin, rising to his feet and gripping one of Keith’s wrists before he could try and escape, “-I just didn’t expect you to be so-”

“So what?!” demanded Keith, looking angry enough to spit fire.

Still chucking, Lance pulled Keith in closer and wrapped his other arm around his waist.

Keith refused to meet his eye, but he didn’t pull away either.

Lance leaned in to kiss him, but Keith turned his head at the last moment and Lance’s lips hit his smooth cheek.

Whatever, he could work with this. Pouty Keith was cute too. He pressed more kisses across Keith’s cheek.

“C’mon man-” he murmured, shifting his head so he could pay the same attention to Keith jawline, “-I thought-” _kiss, lick_ , “-you said-” _bite, nuzzle,_ “-you didn’t want me to stop?” _suck…_

Keith let out a sound that was half moan, half weak laugh.

“You’re going to _kill me_ ,” he bit out.

Lance pulled back. He let go of Keith’s wrist so he could run his knuckles over Keith’s cheek. He was rewarded with another breathy gasp. Lance gripped Keith’s chin lightly and tilted his head, forcing him to meet Lance's eyes.

“In all seriousness, we _can_ stop,” he said.  

On the one hand, if Keith chickened out then Lance _won_. On the other, what they were doing felt really fucking good and he didn’t want to stop. It was a win-win lose-lose situation. 

“Do _you_ want to stop?” retorted Keith. Lance smirked lazily.

“I’m game if you are _guapo_.”

Keith wrinkled his nose.

“I can’t believe we're doing this _,_ ” he muttered.

“I can’t believe we are either.”

They both chuckled at that, and then Keith closed the distance between them and not another word was exchanged between them.

 

* * *

 

When Lance left Keith’s room half a varga or so later, it was with a spring in his step.

He didn’t realize that he'd forgotten to think about who won until he got back to his room.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I writing? I don't know.
> 
> Smut is hard but I guess practice makes perfect right?? haha 
> 
> Umm you can come say hi to me on tumblr if you want, although I'm not terribly exciting.
> 
> @redherring7 is my main blog and @greenteafiend is my fandom/voltron devoted blog


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is very distracting, and Lance is CERTAIN that he is doing it on purpose.

It had been a few days since the make-out session in Keith's room, and even though (after some careful mental calculations), Lance had deduced that he had definitely won that round, Keith wasn't acting appropriately cowed. 

He was still smiling at Lance, still not getting flustered by Lance's winks or cheeky grins.

It was slightly infuriating.

And then it was chore day. 

The _worst_ day in Lance's opinion, because he always got stuck with lame cleaning jobs while Hunk and Pidge got to do cool engineering and computer stuff they would probably be doing anyway, Shiro got to go hang out with the Princess to discuss and plan leader-y type stuff, and Keith got to spend the day in his favorite room on the whole castle-ship (the training deck), doing his favorite activity (making new battle simulations).

Lance didn't actually know for certain that the training-deck was Keith's favorite room, but Keith sure spent enough time in there that it had to _at least_ make his top three, or else that was just sad. He spent practically all his spare time training, making the rest of them look lazy by comparison. 

Coran had already assigned Hunk, Pidge and Shiro their respective tasks, which left just him and Keith.

“You’re on pod cleaning duty,” said Coran.

Lance groaned.

“Why do I always get stuck with pod cleaning duty?” he whined. He was no genius like Hunk or Pidge, but he _had_ gotten into the Garrison just like them, his grades had been just fine. Surely he was worth more than _cleaning_? 

Keith opened his mouth and Lance already knew he was going to say something disparaging like he always did. Probably something along the lines of _‘because no one trusts you to do maintenance on the lions like Hunk can Lance_ ,’ or ‘ _because you can’t program a computer as fast or accurately as Pidge can Lance,’_ or ‘ _because all you’re good for is cleaning Lance.’_

So Lance cut him off.

“Save it Mullet, I don’t want to hear it,” he said grumpily

Keith frowned.

“I was going to say, I don’t mind helping but I guess I can just go-”      

“You want to help me clean?” cried Lance incredulously.

Keith’s cheeks tinted pink as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively, refusing to meet Lance’s eyes.

“I offered didn’t I?”  he snapped.

Well, Lance certainly wasn’t going to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Cleaning sucked, but at least it would be over faster with two of them.

“Alright, c’mon mullet,” he said, grabbing the cleaning supplies out of Coran’s hands and gesturing for Keith to follow him.   

 

* * *

 

They cleaned exactly one pod before Lance pushed Keith up against it, and started kissing him.

It wasn’t his fault, _really_.

Keith had driven him to it by being so _distracting._

First, Keith had removed his jacket. That was fine. Lance had seen Keith in just his form-fitting black t-shirt _loads_ of time.

Then, Keith took off his _gloves_. Lance had never seen Keith not wearing the black finger-less gloves before, and he never would have guessed that the sight of Keith’s naked, surprisingly fine-boned hands, could make his mouth go so dry.

 _Then_ , with deft practiced motions, Keith had tied back his hair into a tiny stubby ponytail that sat at the base of his head. Not only did his shirt stretch attractively across his chest as he did it, riding up to reveal a sliver of pale skin above the waistband of his pants, but the new hair style revealed the long line of his neck, and got Keith’s hair out of his face enough for Lance to really be able to appreciate how freaking pretty he was.

What the  _fuck_. His face was just as fine-boned as his stupid hands. It wasn’t _fair_.    

Had his cheekbones always been so sharp? Had his eyes always been so large and angular? What the fuck even was that color? Purple? Blue? Blu-ple?

The final straw had been when Keith had bent over at the waist right in front of him to pick up the container of cleaning solution in order to pour more on his rag.

In addition to his shirt being really tight, his _pants_ were too, and Lance’s dirty dirty mind couldn’t help but wonder what kind of sounds Keith might make if he reached over and _squeezed_.

Would Keith like it? How would that ass feel under his fingers? Would it be soft? Would it be firm? Would it have give to let his fingers sink into it?

Would Keith like to be touched roughly or gently? Would he like to be stroked or smacked?

Lance _wanted_.

Wanted to find out.

Wanted his hands all over Keith’s body.

Wanted him to just _stop_ looking so ridiculously _hot_ all the time.

He _wanted_ -

As if he had been able to sense Lance’s stare, Keith had straightened up and looked at Lance over his shoulder, and then _he had motherfucking smiled_.  

The soft, fond smile that was simultaneously Lance’s favorite and most hated smile.

He had smiled at Lance as if he hadn’t been purposefully torturing him the whole time they were here. As if he was _happy_ to be stuck here _cleaning_ with him.

What the _fuck._

The smile had slid off Keith’s face as he took in Lance’s expression.

“What?” he had demanded defensively, shifting his weight nervously.  

“Why did you volunteer to help me?” Lance had asked hoarsely, stalking forward towards Keith like a predator.

Keith had blinked, cheeks turning pink, eyes darting down to Lance’s lips obviously.

_Oh._

That little look was enough to restore Lance’s composure. Keith wanted him too, he could take control of the situation. He could still win, although the more they did this the foggier the idea of ‘winning’ became.  

So he had fisted a hand in Keith’s shirt once he got close enough, and leaned down to press their lips together.

Like both other times this had happened, Keith _melted_ into it, going pliant and relaxed in Lance’s arms.

Lance could very easily get addicted to the heady rush Keith’s compliance gave him.

Which brought them to where they were now: entwined closely together, Keith’s back pressed up against the pod with Lance pressed up against him.

They had started off kissing languidly, like they had all the time in the world, a gentle slide of lips and tongue. Keith tasted so good; his mouth was hot and wet.

Lance wanted to eat him up. 

Keith's lips were so _soft_ , and the small noises of gratification he made into Lance’s mouth were also so _soft_ , and Lance _wished_ that Keith’s back wasn’t pressed up against the pod because he desperately wanted to slip his hands behind Keith, and cup his bottom.

He wanted so badly to squeeze him and pull him tightly against his own aching groin, but at the same time he loved having Keith pinned like this, loved having him _helpless_ , so he compromised and slipped one of his legs in between Keith’s.

Keith thighs fell apart and admitted the intrusion as if he had been waiting for it, and then he pressed _down_ as Lance pressed _up_.   

Keith broke off the kiss to make a sound that was so needy it was practically a whine, and Lance couldn’t help but smirk smugly.

He wanted to hear that sound over and over. He wanted to hear all the sounds Keith could make when he was feeling pleasure.

It sounded like victory in his ears.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot,” Lance murmured, and then Keith pressed down again, and put his lips back on Lance’s, but now he was kissing him desperately, licking into Lance’s mouth and sucking on his tongue like he was dying of hunger.

His arms clamped down around Lance’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer, as he continued to undulate his hips like he couldn’t control himself.

Lance could feel how hard and hot Keith was in his pants against his thigh, the press of that firm shape making all coherent thought slip out of his brain like water because _holy shit_ , Keith was _hard_ because of _him_.

Keith was _hard_ and practically _dry humping_ his _thigh_ like he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly Lance wondered what Keith face would look like when he came.

Thinking about Keith coming make Lance break the kiss to release a low groan.

He desperately wanted to see Keith come undone, he wanted to see his pretty face fall slack in ecstasy, but that would mean pulling away to rearrange their limbs and putting any distance between them for any amount of time was unacceptable at this point.

He settled for gripping Keith’s waist _hard_ with one hand, and yanking up Keith’s opposite leg to curl around his hip. He inched his thigh up higher, forcing Keith into his tip-toes on his remaining leg.

Keith wobbled, but it didn't matter. Lance had him, wouldn't let him fall. 

The change in angle was good, if the way Keith threw his head back and _moaned_ was any indication, his hips rolling and stuttering helplessly.    

“That’s it, c’mon Samurai, I wanna see you _come_ ,” breathed Lance right into Keith’s ear, hardly cognizant of what he was saying, just knowing he needed to say something, _anything_ , or else he would explode.

“Lance!” cried Keith, scandalized “Y-you can’t just, _ngh--_ ” Keith's sentence broke off into a moan when Lance rocked his thigh forward in time with Keith's downward motion. 

“Can’t just what?” muttered Lance, before mouthing wet kissed down Keith’s neck.

Keith’s pulse raced under his lips. His breath was coming in warm pants against the side of Lance's face.

He was close. Lance could tell, he was so _close_ -

“Keith? Lance?”

Fuck.

That was Coran.

“Fuck,” whispered Keith, his hips stilling.

Lance removed his lips from Keith's neck with a wet pop. Thank god he hadn't sucked hard enough to leave any marks. If he was going to do that, he'd have to do it somewhere that was usually covered by clothes. He could think of several spots he'd like to trial, _sample._

He idly wondered how Keith's skin would taste in those spots, and what kind of sounds he might make when Lance did it. All the sounds he'd wrung out of Keith so far had gone straight to his-

"Lance! Let me _go_ ," hissed Keith quietly, jolting Lance out of his reverie. Keith wriggling helplessly in Lance's grip. He had no leverage to disentangle himself with only one leg on the floor. Coran's footsteps were getting further into the room.  

Lance gave himself a mental shake, the last thing they needed was to get _caught._

He let Keith’s leg go so he could lower it to the ground, and then Keith unwound his arms from around Lance’s neck.

Lance stepped back sheepishly, missing the feeling of Keith's firm body pressed up again his immediately. He surreptitiously adjusted himself in pants that were suddenly much too tight. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Keith do the same.

They came out from the behind the pod on opposite sides (thank god they had been doing that behind the pod).

“Hey Coran, what’s up?” said Lance, trying very hard to sound normal.

Judging by the way Coran narrowed his eyes, he failed.

It didn’t help that Keith looked absolutely wrecked. His lips were red and swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, and he still looked slightly dazed.

God, couldn’t he _try_ to act normal?

Then again Lance had no idea what he himself looked like, so he supposed he might not have any room to talk.

“Have you two been fighting again?” questioned Coran suspiciously.

“Not _seriously_ ,” said Lance flippantly.  

“Keith?” prompted Coran, but Keith was staring off into the distance like a fucking space cadet.

Lance elbowed him.

“Ow, oh. Um, I need to go… um, go to the bathroom-?” Keith trailed off and high-tailed it out of the room past a very bemused Coran.

“Was he okay?” asked Coran, "He looked a bit red in the face. Is that normal for earthlings? What were you two doing behind the pod?"

“Uh, I think the, um..." shit, he needed to think fast, "Fumes!" Lance blurted, "That's it, the _fumes_ from the, uh, Altean cleaning stuff went to his head. He-he was sniffing it! Even though I told him not to. That’s what we were, um, arguing about. Behind the pod...” said Lance, painfully aware of how stupid he sounded.  

“Hm, when I was a young man, back on Altea, we had serious issues with youth using products like this for recreational purposes and let me tell you, after percolating for the last ten thousand years, that stuff has only gotten more potent and harmful. Why, my own cousin-”

Coran talked at him about the epidemic of substance abuse amongst the youth of Altea ten thousand years ago. Lance usually didn’t mind listening to Coran reminisce, he had learned a lot about Altea through Coran’s shared memories, and it was funny to recognize parallels with Earth culture, (like youth experimenting with mind-altering drugs), but just this once he wished it wasn’t so difficult to get Coran to  _shut up._

Once you got him going, it was very hard to make him stop.

Lance wanted to go find Keith to finish what they started in private, but unfortunately Coran had killed his boner dead.

Two hours later, once Lance had pretty much finishing cleaning all the pods, Coran _finally_ ran out of steam for his drug-abuse rant.

He looked up and blinked at Lance, and looked around the rest of the room in confusion. 

“Keith never came back from the bathroom, do you think he’s alright?” he remarked.

Lance resisted the urge to slap his own forehead.

He supposed that they both lost this round. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm, so this is what procrastination looks like, there is an unpleasant task I am meant to be doing buuuut I wrote this instead. Now that I'm done I have no excuse not to do the unpleasant task D:  
> But at least you guys get this chaper?? 
> 
> Sorry if its rough and if there are typos, I'll probably come back to try and fix that at some point lol
> 
> Come speak to me about Voltron and klance and stuff on Tumblr if you like, I'm @greenteafiend. 
> 
> I think that's all for now.... 
> 
> :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things settled down into a routine...

“What the hell did you say to Coran?” Keith hissed at Lance a few days later.

“What?” replied Lance, blinking in confusion.

He didn’t think that Keith had pulled him aside to _talk_. The minute Keith had grabbed his wrist and tugged him away roughly, urgent as if it was something that couldn’t wait, Lance’s brain had gone straight to the gutter. 

It was taking him a hot minute to pull it back out, especially with Keith looming over him so close, inches from physically pinning him to the wall.

Lance could feel the heat radiating off his body. He could smell that Keith had showered recently, the fresh scent of Altean soap invading his senses. It made him want to bury his face in Keith’s neck.

Keith’s hair actually looked a little damp still; he _never_ took advantage of the hair dryer (making him an uncivilized brute in Lance’s opinion).

Lance wanted to reach up and run a hand through it, maybe tug on it a little to make Keith’s head tip back so he could-

“ _Lance!_ Are you listening to me?”

Keith’s eyes flashed with annoyance and his lips pulled into a scowl. 

Shit, that was hot too. If he kissed Keith now, would be get a taste of the aggression written across his face? Or would Keith _melt_ like every other time they had done this? Lance couldn’t decide what he would prefer-

Okay, okay, he _really_ needed to make an effort to figure out what Keith actually wanted with him because it wouldn’t be nice if he actually lost his temper and decked him or something.

“Yeah I’m listening. What about Coran?” Lance asked, shaking his head a little to force himself to pay attention.

“He asked me if I had a substance abuse problem today!”

Lance burst out laughing, doubling over to clutch at his stomach. He couldn’t help it; Keith’s face was screwed up like he’d sucked on a lemon, and he looked wildly indignant. It was _funny_ , uptight Keith _always_ made him laugh.

“It’s not funny Lance!” Keith cried.

“It kind of is,” Lance replied with a smirk once his laughter died down enough for him to speak.

“Why does Coran think I’ve been doing space drugs?! He said it had something to do with you, _what did you say to him?!”_ Keith demanded.

Oh right, this was kind of his fault…

“Remember the other day when we were meant to be cleaning the pods?”

Judging by the red that blossomed across Keith’s cheeks, he did, so Lance pressed on.

“Well, after you ran out on me and left me to deal with Coran _and_ the cleaning all by myself, I kind of panicked when he asked me what we were doing behind the pod. I might have, um, mentioned something about you sniffing the fumes from the weird Altean cleaning solution or something,” Lance admitted sheepishly, “It’s actually pretty hilarious if you think about it-”

“It isn’t,” said Keith quietly, staring at his feet with a frown carved into his brow. There was a note of real distress in his voice that sobered Lance up quickly.

“Hey man, it isn’t a big deal. Really-” said Lance.

“You don’t get it,” snapped Keith, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. Lance _hated_ it when Keith did that. It was like witnessing Keith shutting the proverbial gates on them, locking everything up tight so nothing could get in or out. He could _feel_ the distance between them, even though they were close enough to touch still.

“What don’t I get?” asked Lance.

Keith glared back at him stonily.

“C’mon Keith, don’t be like this,” wheedled Lance. 

Keith shifted his weight and bit his lip, as if he were tossing up whether to deign Lance with a response or not.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, go on,” he insisted.

Keith sighed deeply.

“What if-what if Coran tells Shiro and Allura and they think I’m not fit to be a Paladin anymore? What if they don’t let me pilot Red?”

Lance’s jaw dropped.

_What?!_

Red was _Keith’s_ lion, Shiro and Allura couldn’t take him from Keith if they tried, and Lance told him as much:

“You’re the only one who can pilot Red. They _can’t_ take him from you.”

Keith didn’t look convinced.

“They could find another pilot…” he said.

“Where would we find another pilot Keith? You think we can just _buy_ another Paladin at the space mall or something?” Lance snapped, making in clear how ridiculous he thought the idea was.

“I guess not,” muttered Keith, his shoulders hunching in to make him look small and vulnerable.

Lance didn’t like it.

“Hey-” he said softly, gripping Keith’s wrists to pull his arms away from his chest. Keith allowed himself to be manipulated easily.

“I’ll tell Coran I was kidding okay? I’ll set him straight so you don’t have to worry,” Lance said, releasing Keith’s wrists to run his palms up his uncrossed arms until they rested on his shoulders. 

“You would do that?” Keith was gazing up at him with an uncharacteristically soft expression.

“Uh, yeah? It was my fuck up in the first place, I should have come up with a better excuse. It’s no biggie…”

Plus, it probably wasn’t a good idea for Coran to continue thinking that Keith had a problem with Altean cleaning product. Lance would be alone on cleaning duty forever if Coran didn’t think Keith could be trusted.

Gratitude softened the lines of Keith’s features and it made him look so goddamn _pretty_ that it probably would have pissed Lance off if he didn’t want to kiss him all over his dumb face.

He didn’t even bother _trying_ to censor the words that wanted to come out of his mouth.

“Ya know, Coran kind of interrupted something that day, and I _kinda_ thought that you dragged me here to continue what we started…” he murmured in a low suggestive voice, creeping one of his hands inwards from Keith’s shoulders so he could brush his thumb gently against the column of his throat.

He felt Keith swallow under his fingers, and his gaze darkened from thankful to hungry.

“I guess… I _am_ pretty grateful that you’ll straighten things out with Coran…” said Keith casually. Lance felt one of Keith’s hands touch lightly at his waist.

“How grateful?” asked Lance.

“Let me show you,” Keith breathed, and then he closed the distance between them.

 

* * *

 

Much later, after ducking into the bathroom to make sure that his hair lay flat (it took a good five minutes of finger combing to make it look normal) and that Keith hadn’t left any visible marks (he hadn’t, Keith was surprisingly careful and gentle), Lance tracked down Coran.

He managed to convince Coran that he’d been making an Earth-joke at Keith’s expense, and that Keith had categorically _no_ problems with _any_ drugs whatsoever. When he knocked on Keith’s door to relay this information, he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek which made his face heat up.

This made Keith look smug, but he also looked so happy and relieved that everything had been fixed that Lance couldn’t really begrudge him.

He’d let Keith have this round.   

 

* * *

 

After that, things settled into a routine so easily that Lance hardly noticed.

Keith kept smiling at him and they both kept bickering, but it was softer now. Their jibes had lost their bite, there wasn’t a sharp edge anymore. Lance figured it was because their combined competitive energies were being channeled towards… _private_ activities.

It was hard to mock Keith’s mullet sincerely when he’d spent so much time running his fingers through it.

Keith didn’t scowl and storm off in high dudgeon and Lance didn’t mutter derisively under his breath.

Instead, in the training room they worked together better than ever. Lance learned how Keith moved. He learned Keith’s tells, he figured out his signals. Maybe it was because he spent a lot of time staring at Keith, but who could blame him? Keith was ridiculously athletic and apparently watching Keith’s muscles flex under his clothes, watching him take down drones like some sort of graceful predator, really did it for him.

This was probably the reason why dragging Keith away straight after his post-training shower was Lance’s favorite time to continue their competition. Plus, Keith was always extra compliant and relaxed after a good work-out.

It was funny to Lance that he used to consider Keith to be so uptight when he was so soft and relaxed underneath Lance’s hands.

He indulgently let Lance have his way, and his way was usually Keith on his lap or Keith laying down on one of their beds with Lance hovering over him to kiss every bit of skin he could reach.   

By unspoken understanding, they didn’t engage in their… _extra-curricular_ activities anywhere out in the open where they could be easily caught, so in their bedrooms Lance learned how to make Keith shiver with gentle touches and moan into his mouth.

Shiro praised both of them for working out their differences and making an effort to get along better, and if Shiro gave Keith a meaningful look that made him flush, Lance _totally_ didn’t notice because the only thing going on between them was a completely healthy, friendly rivalry.

Of this Lance was one hundred percent certain.

But anyway…

The most remarkable thing of all of it was the fact that they actually ended up hanging out and just _talking_ to each other quite a lot, _without_ sucking face.

Lance knew he was a people person, he knew that he was fun to hang out with, but it was surprising to him that _Keith_ seemed to think so too judging by how much time the guy was willing to spent in his presence not making out. He seemed to actually _want_ to listen to what he had to say.

Lance had never tried to turn on the charm for Keith before. He wasn’t turning on the charm even now because that would be _weird_ , but for whatever reason it seemed to be easy for them to fall into conversation with each other.

They spent _hours_ talking about Keith’s hover-bike, discussing the specs, squabbling about potential upgrades Keith could hypothetically make, how to balance speed and manoeuvrability. 

They even dragged Hunk into it, who magnanimously provided them with some construction paper and pencils to sketch out some of their loftier ideas.

They talked about movies they’d seen, with the conversation usually beginning with Lance asking Keith if he’d seen something, Keith replying in the negative, and then Lance proceeding to outline the storyline for him, complete with sound effects and sometimes even actions.

They would banter the whole way through because Keith was very bad at just accepting the plot and continuously derailed Lance’s storytelling with exclamations like, “But why did she go down into the basement?” (“Because she heard a sound down there Keith! _Hush!_ ”) and, “Wait, so his parents don’t recognise him in the future?” (“That’s not the point of the story Keith! It’s been like, _two_ decades, cut them some slack!”).

They talked about music too, mostly because Lance tended to sing or hum to himself a lot. Before this thing started Lance would have sworn that Keith _hated_ his voice, and he honestly used to sing a lot of the time for the express purpose of winding Keith up, but ever since their thing started Keith had actually started asking him what he was singing, and even _requesting_ songs.  

He was terrible at remembering names though so it would go like this:

“Hey, can you do that one you were singing the other day, something about a fast car? It went like this-” and Keith would hum a bit of the melody.

 “It’s _literally_ called _Fast Car_ Keith, how can you not remember that?” Lance would snort derisively, because anytime Keith was less than perfect was a time to tease him in Lance’s book, but then he would oblige him by fulfilling his request.

Partly because he liked to think of himself as magnanimous as Hunk, and partly because he knew he could sing well and he liked the attention, even if it was from Keith. (Especially if it was from Keith).

(“ _You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere_ ~”)

Basically, Lance spent a few weeks so entirely wrapped up in _Keith_ that a lot of the things that used to occupy his thoughts fell by the wayside.

Namely, _Earth_. He forgot about keeping track of the date on Earth.

It was something he’d been doing religiously since they arrived, so when he caught sight of the date on the Earth calendar Pidge had installed on the bridge, it was a bit of a shock to see how much time had passed... to realize how much he had _missed._

All at once his crushing homesickness came rushing back, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t seek out Keith once they were done with their duties for the day.

He absconded alone, wandering through the halls of the ship until he found a good viewing platform to plant himself in front of.

He sat cross-legged with the back against the small wall jutting from the edge of the glass, and gazed out into the emptiness that was _space,_ a blanket around his shoulders _._

For once, he wanted to be alone to wallow in his own misery.  

So of course Keith had to ruin that.

He didn’t hear Keith’s footsteps as he approached; the guy was stealthy as fuck when he wanted to be. He only noticed him because of the shadow he cast once he was an arm’s length away.   

“ _Jesus Keith_!” started Lance when he caught sight of him, jolting out of his skin in surprise.

“What are you doing here?!” he demanded, clutching at his chest dramatically.

“Did… did I do something to upset you?” asked Keith with no preamble, wringing his hands.

Lance squinted at him… Keith looked… _nervous?_

“Um, no. Not that I know of-?” replied Lance blankly.

“You just seem…” Keith trailed off and make a jerky gesture at him.

Lance raised an eyebrow.

“What’s _that_ meant to mean?” asked Lance, mimicking the movement Keith made, “You just gestured at _all_ of me.”

“Look, I’m not good at this,” snapped Keith impatiently, “I’m just trying to see if you’re alright. Are you alright?” he demanded.

Lance blinked at Keith, rendered speechless and a little undone in the face of his genuine concern.

A giant sigh came whooshing out of his chest.

“Don’t worry about it Keith, I’m just-just _homesick_ ,” he dismissed, trying to smile reassuringly but only managing a grimace.

“Oh... You miss your family?” ventured Keith cautiously.

“Yeah… my-my sister was pregnant when we left. Did you know that?” he remarked with forced nonchalance. 

Keith shook his head.

“So you… you were going to be an _Uncle_ ,” he said solemnly.  

Lance snorted.

“I’m _already_ an Uncle, Keith. My oldest brother has three kids and my second oldest sister has twins, all of ‘em under eight.”

“…So you’re Uncle Lance.”

“ _T_ _ío_ Lance, actually, but yeah. I’m their _favourite_ Uncle,” said Lance proudly, and then something occurred to him and his face dropped.

“Or at least I _was_. They’re all so _little_ , who knows if they’ll remember me,” he muttered morosely, feeling cold all over despite his blanket.   

Would Lucas and Exe remember that he taught them how to swim? Would Fede, Juli, and Flor remember running to him for piggy-back rides? Would they remember collectively _begging_ him to reach the treats from the top shelf where his Mami thought they were well hidden?  

“I looked at the Earth date today and realised that by now my other sister would have had her baby, so I have a new Niece or Nephew on Earth that I’ll probably never get to meet. I don’t even know what they’re _called_ …”

Lance trailed off and pressed his lips together into a thin line, trying to stop tears from welling up in his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to _cry_ in front of _Keith_ which is why he’d made himself scarce in first place! Just when he thought he had a good enough handle on himself to tell Keith to go away, Keith spoke.

“Don’t say that, _of course_ you’ll get to meet them.”

The vehemence in Keith’s tone startled Lance out of his melancholy enough to look up at him.

“Since when were _you_ the optimist out of the two of us?” he teased weakly.

“I’m not an optimist, I’m a _realist._ I’m also the best pilot in the whole fucking galaxy, so when I say you get to go back to Earth and see your family one day, I _mean_ it. I’ll make sure you get to.”

Wow. Lance was speechless. He didn’t know what to say… if those words had come out of anyone else’s mouth except Keith’s he would have thought it was downright _romantic._

“Are you trying to cheer me up?” he asked dumbly.

“Yes. Is it working?” replied Keith earnestly.

Fuck. That was cute. Keith was _too_ fucking cute, standing there looking at Lance with his serious dark eyes, fidgeting nervously the longer Lance just stared at him gormlessly.

“C’mere you big dork,” said Lance finally, opening his arms and uncrossing his legs.

“It’s not very nice to call me a dork when I’m trying to cheer you up,” Keith ribbed, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest loosely.

“ _Fine_ , c’mere my love. Better?” Keith jolted in shock when the pet name left Lance’s lips, and flushed pink. 

Ok that was definitely a win for Lance, and also good to know for the future. Keith’s weakness: cutesy pet names.

Keith went to him eagerly nonetheless, and let Lance arrange him until he was reclining with his back against Lance’s chest.

Lance pulled the blanket around both of them, wrapping one of his arms around Keith’s waist.

With his other hand he toyed with Keith’s hair, running his fingers through it.

Keith relaxed against him, boneless, and let out a satisfied sort of sound when Lance scratched his scalp. He leaned his head on Lance’s shoulder, and Lance couldn’t resist kissing his neck. Just once, a quick peck. He couldn’t help it, Keith’s neck with _right there_ in front of his face.  

“Hey Keith…” Lance murmured into his ear.

“Mmhm?” hummed Keith lazily. Lance sneaked another kiss, this time below Keith’s ear.

“Next time you decide to cheer me up it’ll work better if you say you’re the _second_ best pilot in the whole fucking galaxy,” said Lance cheekily.

Keith barked out a laugh.

“You want me to _lie_ to make you feel better?” Lance could hear the smile in his voice.

“No, I want you to stop lying to _yourself_ ,” retorted Lance jokingly. 

“I’ll keep that in mind…” Keith trailed off as Lance leaned in to leave a more lingering kiss that was probably more of a love-bite just under his jaw.

“Was there something else you wanted?” asked Keith, slightly breathless.

The short answer to that question was _yes_. He’d been planning on wallowing, but now Keith was here, reclining against him, pliant and willing, and he’d be stupid not to take advantage it.   

Lance laid the palm of the hand that wasn’t buried in Keith’s hair flat against his belly. He felt Keith’s muscles tense under his fingers through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

Lance wanted to know what his skin felt like with no barrier between them.

He wanted to trail his fingers down lower, past the waistband of Keith’s pants. He’d felt the hot, firm shape of Keith pressed up against him before when they made out, but he wanted to grip it in his hand with no barriers _._

“Can I touch you?” he whispered, giving up all pretence of innocently pecking Keith neck, and mouthing his way up it instead.

“Y-yeah,” replied Keith shakily, squirming between his legs.

He slipped the hand on Keith’s belly under the hem of his shirt. Keith’s skin was warm and smooth to touch, and his breathing hitched delightfully as Lance’s hand glided up up _up_ until he was brushing a thumb over one of Keith’s nipples. 

Keith gasped at the contact and moved his hands to grip the top of Lance’s thighs which were on either side of him.

Lance shoved his other hand hastily under Keith’s shirt so he could lavish both nipples with attention at the same time. Keith’s back arched onto the touch, and he threw his head back. Keith’s chest was all flushed, at least all the parts of it Lance could see where his shirt was pushed up to his armpits.   

“How does that feel?” Lance asked roughly.

“ _Good_ ,” Keith breathed, and then Lance covered Keith’s mouth with his own.

He mapped Keith’s torso thoroughly with his hands as he made love to Keith’s mouth, eating up every little sound Keith couldn’t stifle, cataloging which touches made him squirm and which ones made him dig his nails into Lance’s thighs.

Lance broke the kiss so he could speak.

“ _Keith_ , can I- is it alright if I-” his danced his fingers along Keith’s waistband, and Keith nodded against his shoulder emphatically.

“ _Yes_.”

Lance hooked his head over Keith’s shoulder so he could look down and see what he was doing, and then he was undoing the button on Keith’s jean and pulling the zipper down…

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know whether it was from nerves or excitement; he definitely felt both those things _a lot._

He palmed the bulge in Keith’s pants over his underwear, and was rewarded with Keith moaning his name. Keith felt so so hot through the thin cotton.

Very carefully, Lance pushed down Keith’s boxers, allowing his cock to spring free.

“ _Woah_ ,” he murmured, riveted by the sight below him.

“What?” snapped Keith, shifting self-consciously.

Lance ghosted his fingertips over the surface of Keith’s dick, and it _twitched_. It was a nice dick. Lance had never really considered before what would constitute an attractive dick, but Keith’s just _was_ somehow. It was _appealing_ , and Lance idly wondered what it would be like to have it in his mouth…   

“Easy, sweetheart. Just _relax~_ ” he purred in Keith’s ear, wrapping his hand around him and squeezing.

Lance was fascinated. He’d never touched another guy like this before, and he found that he liked the look of Keith's cock his hand. The skin was so _smooth_ , soft like satin. Lance didn’t think it was possible, but it became even _more_ rigid under his fingers.

“You’re so _hard_ ,” Lance breathed, awed that his touch could affect Keith like this.

“Of course I am-” snapped Keith, choking off into a throaty moan when Lance gave his length an experimental pump. Lance immediately wanted him to make that sound again.

“Y-you’re hard too!” Keith accused, wriggling pointedly.

Right, Keith could probably feel his hard-on pressed against his back.

 _Course he can, it isn’t exactly small._ He thought to himself, simultaneously flustered and smug.

“Alright, talk to me Keith,” he ordered, stroking up and down slowly, just like he did to himself to get things started.

“Tell me what you like,” he continued.  

“I d-don’t know, th-that feels-” Keith made a choked cut off sound when Lance sped up the movement of his hand, a sound that Lance found deeply satisfying.

“You like this?” Lance prompted smugly.

Keith, apparently too overcome to speak, just arched into his hold, chest heaving, breaths coming in uneven pants.

Lance slowed down and Keith honest to god _whined_.

“You gotta use your words baby, tell me what you need,” Lance said into Keith’s ear, the smirk on his face audible. Keith moaned, hips jerking, desperately seeking more friction.

“ _Please_ , Lance I’m so- p- _please_ ,” Keith begged. He sounded breathy and wrecked, and Lance’s brain short-circuited.

“You’re so fucking hot. _Fuck_ ,” he murmured, picking the pace back up. No more teasing.

“I wanna see you come,” he growled straight into Keith’s ear.

He reached down with his other hand to fondle Keith’s balls, and it made Keith writhe in his grip.

He moaned hard and loud.

“ _Lance_ ,” he choked out, and it made Lance _dizzy_ with _want._

It didn’t take long for Keith to seize in Lance’s grip, his whole body tensing like a bow-string drawn too tight, and then his cock was throbbing rhythmically in Lance’s hand.

Lance felt something warm and wet coating his fingers, but he was too busy staring at Keith’s face fall slack because it was the single most sexy thing he had ever witnessed with his own two eyes.

His cheeks were flushed, eyes closed, bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead, and his expression was nothing short of exquisite. He looked rapturous, blissed out, _spent_ in the best way possible, and the greatest thing about it was that _Lance_ had done that. Lance had put that look on Keith’s face.

Lance tucked Keith’s softening length back into his pants, neatly doing them back up. He pulled Keith’s shirt down over his torso to cover up the mess he had made of himself, covertly wiping his wet hand on Keith’s shirt as he did so.

They sat together quietly for a moment, Keith getting his breath back, Lance stroking his hair.

“Okay, your turn-” said Keith suddenly, springing away from Lance so he could turn around to face him.

Keith had a determined look on his face, like he was steeling himself to do what needed to be done. It was the same look he got on his face before trying risky manoeuvres in the field.  

“Keith, I don’t expect you to do anything for me just because I did that to you,” said Lance casually.

In fact, he could call this round a landslide win in his favor if they stopped right here. Sure, Keith’s hand on him would probably feel awesome, his dick actually twitched at the mental image, but the idea of Keith forcing himself to do it, of Keith not actually wanting it, didn’t sit well with Lance.

He wanted Keith’s hands on him hot and hungry, not because he felt indebted.   

“What?” said Keith, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You look like you’re going to fight a squadron of Galra, not like you want to put your hand down my pants so don’t worry about it,” he said, climbing to his feet and offering Keith a hand up.

“You… You wouldn’t mind?” said Keith, with an adorably bewildered look on his face. He accepted Lance’s proffered hand, and Lance pulled him up.  

“Na. I’ll just beat one off on my own,” said Lance with a shrug.

Keith still looked confused, like he was desperately trying to figure something difficult out.

When it was clear that Keith was just going to continue standing there as if Lance had beaten him over the head with a club, rendering him discombobulated, Lance made the executive decision to call it a night.  

“Right, well, thanks for cheering me up Keith. See ya round,” said Lance, shooting Keith a parting two-fingered salute.

And if he jerked off to the thought of Keith touching him later that night? Well, Keith would never know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm well, here is more smut. How was that? lol  
> Feedback would actually be great because I've never written anything like his before. :D  
> Lance is still a blind idiot, sorry about that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wears his heart on his sleeve. Too bad Lance isn’t looking at it, he’s too busy being shameless.

Lance was the last to breakfast the next morning, just like usual. _Unlike_ usual, everyone was eating something in addition to their regularly scheduled bowls of green goo.

“What are those?” he asked, taking his regular seat between Hunk and Keith.  
  
After their first day here with the food goo fight, they’d just kept sitting in the same assigned places. Lance would have put up a fuss about being forced to sit next to Keith before their… _thing_ started, (seemed churlish to protest sitting next to the guy _now_ when he’d touched his dick and seen him come), but he knew that Coran had put them in height order and he had gotten a kick out of sitting one place further up the table than Keith, so he had put up with it.

Keith could pry his extra inch and a half in height out of his cold, dead, hands.  
  
Now, he genuinely didn’t mind sitting beside Keith. Especially when Keith turned in his seat to face him and give him a blindingly bright smile that crinkled the corners of his pretty pretty eyes.

“Remember those weird seeds I picked up like, three planets ago?” asked Hunk, snapping Lance out of staring at Keith like an idiot.

Lance remembered; the seeds had been _really weird_. Spirals about the size of Lance’s fist, and bright pink like the spun sugar Lance’s mother used to begrudgingly buy him at carnival when he was younger. He could hear her voice echoing in his head now, fond but put-upon;

_“Mijo, te lo compro, pero hay que cepillarte los dientes cuando volvamos a casa…”_

Hunk had been _determined_ to grow them in space when the native population of the planet in question informed him that they were renowned for their unique and delicious flavor. They were out of season when they arrived, but the aliens had been happy to gift Hunk some seeds seeing as he had been instrumental in saving them from the Galra.

“So those weird pink berries are the fruit?” asked Lance. They looked like blueberries, except they were as pink as their parental seeds.

“Yup! They’re really sweet, sort of like a lychee, but more _tart_ maybe? With the texture of a mango,” explained Hunk.

“So… where’s mine?” asked Lance.

“I’m afraid the mice made off with your share because you took _so_ long to get here,” sniffed Allura unsympathetically, before popping a berry daintily in her mouth. Allura was nothing if not a stickler for punctuality.

Lance pouted, ready to turn the full force of his sad puppy dog eyes onto Hunk.

“Sorry man, I ate mine already,” said Hunk pre-emptively, hands thrown up defensively. Lance turned and leaned around Keith to look at Pidge.

“ _No way_ , I’m _not_ sharing. You should have been on time!” she cried, clutched her bowl of berries to her chest defensively. 

Lance skipped Shiro, (Shiro would definitely share his berries and then Lance would feel like a monster for having taken them from him. Shiro _deserved_ his berries), and was about to turn to Coran, when a bowl of berries was pushed in front of him.

“Here,” muttered Keith brusquely, before digging into his green goo with a single minded focus the awful stuff didn’t really deserve or require.

Lance stared down at the little bowl of berries, brow wrinkled in confusion. Why would Keith _… oh_. OH. 

Keith was trying to make them even for the night before, he bet. Far be it from Lance to tell Keith how to show him gratitude, if he wanted to give Lance berries, Lance was going to damn well eat them. 

He clapped Keith on the back heartily.

“Thanks buddy!” he exclaimed with a beaming smile, before digging in.

They were _delicious_.

Lance purposefully ignored the pink flush making its way across Keith’s cheeks, and the quietly pleased look on his face as he snuck side-long glances at Lance enjoying his breakfast.

Keith could laugh it up and think he had Lance beat, but Lance was the one eating delicious berries so who was the real winner here?

 

* * *

 

Later that day saw them answering another distress signal, and saving another planet.

It was actually a little alarming to Lance that he had spent so much time nearly dying, so much time risking and/or fighting for his life, that he’d become pretty complacent about it. They all had, even Hunk to some extent.

So it was a surprise to him when later that night, after all was said and done and they’d saved the day again, Keith showed up at his door.

Well. Not entirely a surprise, Keith’s visits were expected, even _anticipated_. What he hadn’t expected was the _state_ Keith was in.

He was all rumpled, hair mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it (usually he _left_ Lance’s room with his hair like that, he didn’t _arrive_ that way). His eyes were wild in a way that Lance hadn’t seen before.

He pushed his way past Lance into the room with no preamble, and started pacing. The door swished shut behind him, lending them privacy.

“Keith… man, are you okay?” asked Lance gingerly.  

“Am _I_ okay?” Keith choked incredulously.

“ _Yes,_ you,” Lance retorted, folding his arms over his chest, “You’re the one that barged into my room to-to _pace,_ like a wild animal!” cried Lance, brandishing an arm at him, “What’s the matter with you?” he demanded.

Keith froze where he stood and pursed his lips.

“That manoeuvre you pulled in Blue was stupid,” Keith snapped.

Lance was taken aback. It had been weeks and weeks since they had argued with any level of real vitriol, and for Keith to come and attack him like this out of the blue was baffling.    

“ _What_ manoeuvre? I pull a lot of manoeuvres in Blue, it’s sort of my day job,” replied Lance in clipped tones.

“The one where you nearly _died_ you dick!” snarled Keith. Lance could actually pinpoint _exactly_ what manoeuvre Keith was talking about. The Galra had aimed their ion cannon at the settlement they were defending, and Lance had put himself in the way. If he hadn’t covered Blue in a thick layer of ice, things would have been much worse, but they _weren’t_. Blue was a little damaged, but she would be fine.

The aliens of the planet had hailed him as their _hero,_ and he’d been the center of attention at the celebration later that evening. He’d felt good about what he’d done. He’d saved a lot of people, Allura had smiled at him, and even Shiro had clapped him on the back and murmured “Good job.”

And now Keith was raining on his parade and making him feel like shit.  

“You’re a _filthy_ hypocrite Keith,” said Lance lowly, “Out of all of us you’ve nearly gotten yourself killed through risky stunts the _most,_ you never think anything through, and I _know_ you would have done exactly what I did if you were closer!” he cried angrily. Keith spluttered, and Lance knew it was because he was _right_.  

 _Typical_ Keith, he was probably just jealous that Lance was getting all the praise and attention for once.

“ _Whatever_ , it doesn’t matter what _I_ do, that’s not what we’re talking about,” dismissed Keith roughly.

“Oh, are we talking? Because it seems to me that you barged in here, to _my_ room, to _yell_ at me for saving people’s lives!” shouted Lance, losing his temper.

“You can’t save anyone if you _die_ Lance!” Keith shouted back.

“Cool, consider that nugget of wisdom duly noted,” said Lance sarcastically. He’d had enough. He didn’t know what Keith’s problem was, and he didn’t want to be in proximity to the guy until he got over it. 

“Go be angry on the training deck or something, _I’m_ going to sleep,” he dismissed.

“Fine.”

“ _Fine_.”

Lance would never admit it in a million years, but he may or may not have shed a few tears of frustration before he fell asleep.

He was dragged back to consciousness an indeterminate amount of time later by an insistent knocking on his door.

Rubbing his eyes blearily, only half awake, he stumbled out of bed to press the button to let the door swish open.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said through a yawn when he recognised Keith on the other side, squinting against the bright light from the hallway.

“Well, I hope you’re here to apologize- _oof_ -” he was cut off when Keith abruptly threw himself into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck tightly, and tucked his face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed against Lance’s throat. Lance’s traitorous heart gave an extra loud thump. He’d been prepared to hold a grudge for days, to give Keith the cold shoulder and make him _beg_ and _grovel_ for his forgiveness, but Keith’s uncharacteristically soft-spoken words undid his resolution completely. Lance was terrible at holding grudges. 

“Yeah, yeah, I forgive you, you dick,” he said gruffly, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist to clinch their bodies together.

Keith let out a relieved sigh at Lance’s words, and relaxed against him as tension seeped from his shoulders.

They fit against each other like this really well, holding Keith like this felt natural. _Right_.  

But Keith was trembling. Lance could _feel_ it through the thin cotton of his black t-shirt where one of his palms was pressed against his shoulder blade.

He tried to pull back, but Keith clung to him stubbornly.

“Keith, are you alright?” he asked.

He felt Keith’s head nod against him jerkily. It wasn’t very convincing.

He firmly took Keith by the shoulders and pushed him back so there was enough space between them for Lance to be able to make out his face.

His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, cheeks flushed. It twisted something in Lance’s gut seeing Keith like this _. Upset._

“What happened?” he asked patiently, laying a hand against Keith’s cheek. It was chilled to touch.

“Bad dream,” Keith admitted reluctantly, “Can I… I want to-”

Lance wordlessly took his hand and pulled him into his room, and then into his bed.

All of them had nightmares sometimes. He wasn’t so heartless and hell-bent on their rivalry that he couldn’t offer Keith some comfort.

Keith went with him as easily as he always did, clambering onto the bed and burying his face in Lance’s chest with no reservations.

“I never would have figured you for a cuddler,” Lance quipped, pulling his blanket over both of them before putting his arms around the other boy.

“Sorry, I can stop-” said Keith, tensing up as if to get up and leave. Lance hugged him tighter.

“Keith chill, I am _definitely_ a cuddler. This is fine.” He’d been in this position with Hunk more times than he could count, and even Pidge a handful of times, although admittedly, it was never in a bed.

The point was, he didn’t mind doing this for Keith too.

Keith relaxed again, and Lance started lazily running his fingers through his hair.

“I would have thought you’d to go to Shiro for something like this,” Lance remarked casually. He wouldn’t have expected Keith to purposefully allow himself to be this vulnerable in front of _him_ , and he was actually kind of honored.  

“Can’t bother him with my nightmares, he has enough of his own without me _burdening_ him every time this happens,” was Keith’s mumbled reply.

_Every time?_

Keith made a small sound of displeasure, and Lance realised that he’d unconsciously stopped stroking his hair. He resumed the motion.

“How often does this happen?” Lance asked.

“Not often,” replied Keith dismissively.

“What do you usually do?” Lance pressed.

“Nothing. Just… sit alone.” 

Lance could imagine it; Keith sitting on his bed hugging himself forlornly. That was unbearably tragic, especially when Lance was just one room over and always down to hug.

“You can come back here, next time. I don’t mind,” he offered.

Keith abruptly pushed himself up onto his elbows to look Lance in the face.

“Really?” he asked breathlessly, eyes shining hopefully even in the darkness. Lance felt his cheeks heat up traitorously. 

“Yeah-? I mean, I like cuddling, so it’s, _whatever_ , you know,” Lance stuttered eloquently.

“ _Thank_ _you_ ,” said Keith emphatically. He thanked him like Lance had given him something impossibly precious and wonderful, and then he was pressing his mouth to Lance’s insistently.

Well. _Okay._

This was fine with Lance, who cupped Keith’s cheek to guide him to a better - _closer_ \- angle. He didn’t think he could ever get sick of doing this with Keith; he was always so hot, so sweet, and so fervent.

Keith pulled back (too soon in Lance’s opinion) with a wet smack. He figured that Keith probably wanted to sleep - it _was_ the middle of the night - but then Keith shifted his weight so he was straddling Lance properly.

“Lance- Can I-? I want to touch you,” he said breathily.  

Lance bit his lip. On the one hand, he was very rapidly hardening in his sleep pants at the thought. On the other hand, Keith had been upset about a bad dream not five minutes ago. Was that taking advantage of him?

“Or… _not_ ,” said Keith self-consciously, the hunger in his eyes dimming in the face of Lance’s hesitation. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you to,” said Lance hastily, “It’s just, you were upset about a nightmare a minute ago. Are you _sure-?”_

Keith snorted.

“Yes. I’m sure, it’ll make me feel better,” he said bluntly.

“Well in that case go ahead,” said Lance, making a sweeping gesture to his body.

“Can I-? The _lights_ \- I want to _see_ you,” said Keith roughly.

Lance chuckled; Keith’s enthusiasm was pleasing to him.

“You wanna see the goods, I get it,” he teased, groping behind himself for the light switch. He managed to click it to dim.

Keith went for the hem of Lance’s shirt immediately, tugging it insistently over his head and throwing it somewhere behind him once he got it off.

His eyes roamed over Lance’s torso hungrily, and Lance couldn’t hold back his self-satisfied smirk if he tried. He put his hands behind his head, completely shameless and happy to let Keith look his fill.

“I thought you wanted to touch?” he teased.

“I’ve changed my mind,” said Keith, voice impossibly low.

“Oh? You just gonna stare?” Lance challenged.

Keith shook his head, and put his hands against Lance’s abdomen, stroking over the muscles there, and watching with avid fascination as they tightened under his touch.

Keith swept his hands upwards, stroking over Lance’s chest, rubbing his thumbs against Lance’s nipples, making him gasp and cant his hips up a little.  

It felt really fucking good, and Lance was embarrassed to find himself panting from the simple touches.

“I want to _taste_ you,” said Keith suddenly, shifting his weight further down so he could bring his face in line with-

_Sweet Jesus._

Lance was going to die. Lance would die because Keith had killed him, because did _he just offer to suck his dick?_

Keith’s hands went to the waistband of Lance’s pants.

“Can I? _Please_?”

Was Keith  _begging_ him to _suck his dick?_ What the fuck. _What the fuck?!_

“Have at it,” Lance choked out, waves of heat suffusing his whole body.

Keith’s eyes were huge and imploring, and Lance would happily let him do anything he wanted in that moment.  

Keith licked his lips, _licked his lips_ , and pulled Lance’s sleep pants and boxers down his thighs in one smooth motion.

He nudged Lance’s knees apart to make room, before making himself comfortable in between them.

The sight of Keith between his legs, looking at his dick the way most people might look at a buffet, made him twitch in anticipation. God, he’d never been this hard and turned on in his life.

There was no question that Keith wanted this, wanted to do this to him, and that made the whole thing even more unbearably hot.

Keith started off by stroking the soft skin on the inside of Lance’s thighs, and Lance moaned at the sensation.

Apparently buoyed by Lance’s responsiveness, Keith followed that up with a wet kiss to the same spot, eyes darting up to Lance’s to gauge his reaction.

Whatever he saw on Lance’s face must have satisfied him, because then he was lavishing kisses all over Lance’s thighs, nipping lightly every now and then.

Lance closed his eyes and threw an arm over his face, revelling in the sensation, letting out gasps and small moans whenever Keith did something particularly delicious.

Keith shifted and peppered kisses along his hips, licking along the line of his hipbone.

He was working his way inward, giving attention to every bit of skin around the spot Lance needed him most, and Lance was going to lose his mind.  

And then Keith’s fingertips were brushing over his dick, and it felt so good that he gasped Keith’s name. 

“You sure?” whispered Keith suddenly.

Lance removed his arm to lock eyes with Keith.

“ _Positive_.”

And then Keith lowered his head to _lick._

Lance _groaned_ ; Keith’s tongue was hot, and wet, and worshipful. He started at the base, and worked his way to the top, languidly tasting every inch, staring at Lance’s face as he did it.

He seemed to feed off of Lance’s reactions, the tempo of his licks increasing as Lance’s breathing turned into labored pants interspersed with tiny moans Lance was doing his best to muffle.

“ _God_ , that’s feel _good,_ Keith,” he breathed.

And then Keith opened his mouth, took Lance in, _sucked_ , and Lance lost control of the sounds coming out of his mouth.

He moaned long, and loud, and uninhibited, as Keith enthusiastically sucked as much of Lance’s dick as he could fit into his mouth. He worked the rest with one of his hands, pumping skilfully in time with stroke of his tongue.

“How the f-fuck are you so- _ahh_ \- good at this?” Lance choked out in a pleasured haze.

He was on _fire_ , he needed _more_ , he wanted touch Keith all over. He had to settle for just his head because it was all he could reach.

He fisted his hands in Keith’s hair, tugging on it aimlessly because he couldn’t help himself, and Keith _moaned_ around his cock.  

“Holy Shiii- _ah_ \- a-are you getting off this - _ngh_ \- too?” Lance asked, trying very hard to be a gentleman and _not_ thrust his hips up.

Keith answered with a look of sheer lust, and another moan.

Heat was gathering low in Lance’s belly, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Keith, you gotta - _ah ah_ \- I’m gonna-”

Keith pulled off him. It took a few more strokes with his hand, and then Lance was spilling all over himself as he came the hardest he had ever come in his entire life, bowing forward as his whole body tensed.

Keith stroked him through it, until he fell back onto his pillow, relaxed and dazed with pleasure.

When Lance finally regrouped enough to be able to think again, he realised that Keith was sitting beside him, staring down at his face with a slightly stupefied expression _._

“Can you hand me my t-shirt?” asked Lance. Keith jumped, before scrambling to comply with Lance’s request.

“Thanks buddy.”

Lance wiped himself down.

“Do you mind if I-?” said Keith hesitantly, gesturing to the very obvious tent in his pants.

“Finish yourself off?” supplied Lance. Keith nodded bashfully.

“Um, _yes_ -”

Keith jumped up too quickly for Lance to finished what he was going to say.

“Sorry, I’ll just go then-”

“Wait! _Wait!”_ Lance yelped, struggling to pull his boxers and pants back up. Keith paused, hand poised over the button to open the door. Holy _crap_ Keith could move fast when he wanted to.

“Look, you can if you want, but I’d rather you let _me_ ,” Lance explained.

Keith looked stunned.

“Oh,” he said eloquently, losing some of the skittishness that had been written in the way he held himself and the look on his face.

“ _Yeah_. So, are you gonna come back?” Lance asked, sitting up and swinging him legs over the side of the bed. He stretched out a hand to Keith, like he was trying to coax a shy kitten into letting him pet them.

Keith stepped back from the door, and let Lance take his hand. Let Lance position him so he was standing in between Lance’s spread thighs, putting him at just the right height for-

“Y-you’re not- I mean, what are you-” stuttered Keith as Lance got to work undoing his pants.

“Yeah, I am. Unless you don’t want me to-”

“No, I do!” cried Keith quickly, “I’m just… surprised? You really… You wanna do it to _me_?” asked Keith, like he found the idea of someone wanting to suck his very attractive dick absurd.

 _“Duh_ ,” said Lance, rolling his eyes, and tugging Keith’s pants down to free his cock. Keith took in a shaky breath, and gingerly laid his hands on Lance’s shoulders.

“You know,” Lance purred, taking a moment to just _admire_ , “When I was touching you yesterday, I was wondering what you’d feel like in my mouth. Wanted to find out how you _taste.”_

“ _Lance,”_ Keith choked, tightening his grip on his shoulders until it was painful, and Lance had the pleasure of watching Keith’s flagging erection catch a second wind and harden before his eyes.

Just as hard, and pretty as it was the day before.

Lance had never done this before. What Keith had done to him felt fucking amazing, so he decided to try and mimic him.

He held the base of Keith’s cock steady with one hand, and splayed his other hand on Keith’s hip, stroking the skin there.   
  
He looked up at Keith, looked him right in the eye, and gave an experimental lick from his base to his tip.

The taste was neutral, just warm skin. The way Keith responded however, eyes widening in shocked pleasure, a fevered, whispered “ _F-fuck_ ,” made Lance want to see what other sounds he could wring out of him.

He licked, and suckled, and stroked, and became heady on the way it was making Keith break apart in front of him.

Lance was reducing him to a throbbing begging mess with his mouth, and Lance _loved_ it.

When he finally took Keith _into_ his mouth and started to _suck -_  the weight of Keith’s cock on his tongue foreign and satisfying - he gave into the urge to reach around and clutch handfuls of Keith’s ass.

It flexed under his fingers, smooth and firm, while an obscene sound worked its way out of Keith’s throat. Keith liked it, liked having his ass grabbed, and Lance loved the feel of it in his hands so he continued to knead and suck and-

And then Keith’s fingers were in his hair, ripping his mouth away as he came, _hard_.   

He got Lance in the chin with a thick spurt of white, before frantically grabbing himself to point it away from Lance’s face, catching most of it all over his hand.

Curious, Lance swiped his index finger over his wet chin and put it in his mouth.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. It wasn’t that bad, didn’t taste great, just sort of… salty? It was better than the huge mess Keith had made in any case.

“You should just come in mouth next time, then we don’t have to clean up this mess,” he said casually.

Keith stared at him disbelievingly, making a strangled sort of sound, before collapsing onto the bed beside Lance, supine and boneless.   

He didn’t seem to be capable of coherent speech just yet, which made Lance supremely pleased with himself. He grabbed his already dirty t-shirt to wipe off his chin, before taking pity on Keith and wiping him down too.

“Dude, I’m gonna need you to move cause I wanna lie down too,” he said when he was done. Keith was lying the wrong way right in the middle of the bed, legs dangling off the edge, pants still around his thighs. He’d thrown an arm over his face, and his breathing was still labored.

He didn’t move.

“ _Keeeith_ , c’mon man,” Lance whined, and finally Keith snapped back to himself enough to make himself decent and move so he was oriented correctly with his head was on Lance’s pillow.

Lance lay down beside him, and Keith immediately rolled over to burrow himself into the crook of Lance’s neck, throwing a leg over both of his.

“Wow, you really _are_ a cuddler.”

“Mm-hm,” Keith replied drowsily.  

Lance chucked, laying a hand on Keith’s back, and playing with Keith’s hair with the other.

“S’nice,” Keith muttered.

“What’s nice? I hope you’re not talking about the blow-job I just gave you cause that was definitely better than just _nice,”_ said Lance.

Lance felt Keith’s laugh rumble though his chest.

“No. That was _awesome_. I meant when you do that with my hair,” Keith mumbled contentedly. Lance felt warmth spread through his chest.

“Tell me more about how awesome the blow-job was,” he teased, ignoring how his cheeks heated up at how _sweet_ it was that Keith liked being petted like a kitten.

Keith snorted.

“G’night,” he said pointedly.  

“Sweet dreams, my love,” Lance replied teasingly.

He ignored how Keith’s breath hitched at the endearment, and fell asleep a short while later, warm and content, with his hand still buried in Keith’s hair.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mijo, te lo compro, pero hay que cepillarte los dientes cuando volvamos a casa…” means "Son, I'll buy it for you but you gotta brush your teeth when we return home."
> 
> Whew, well, this is un-betaed so sorry about the typos that I most likely missed. 
> 
> Smut is hard. How'd I do? :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More things are added to Lance's routine without him really noticing, and he is shameless.

Lance woke up eye to eye with a Keith that was already awake, and judging by how clear his gaze was, had been for quite some time. Lance checked the time over Keith’s head; there was about a varga until breakfast.

“Aren’t you usually on the training deck by now?” he asked Keith through a yawn. Lance was never awake early enough to witness Keith’s morning training routine, but he didn’t need to. Keith always arrived at breakfast with his Bayard, his cheeks flushed with exertion, and his hair sweaty; Keith was a freak when it came to physically exerting himself.  

“Yeah, but you’re kind of pinning me down,” replied Keith wryly.

He was right, Keith was on his back and Lance was practically on top of him, an arm curled around Keith’s waist and their legs tangled together.

“Aw, did you not wanna wake me up?” teased Lance. Keith’s cheeks turned pink.

“More like I _tried,_ but you sleep like the dead and you wouldn’t let me go,” he retorted gruffly.

“Well you’re free now,” said Lance, rolling to the side. Keith, however, made no move to get up. He rolled on his side to face Lance, and looked like he was struggling internally with something.  

“You liked it didn’t you?” crowed Lance, “You _like_ snuggling and you were too _soft_ to wake me up. I can’t believe it, the fearsome Red Paladin would rather snuggle with _me_ than beat up training bots, who would have thought we’d ever see the day where Keith would prefer _anything_ to _stabbing_ things-”

“You’re ridiculous,” snapped Keith, but he attached himself to Lance all the same, cuddling up to him the same way Lance had been cuddled up to him moments before.

“Don’t worry, your shameful secret is safe with me,” whispered Lance into his ear, delighting in how red it turned at his words.

“What secret?” huffed Keith.

“The fact that you like snuggling and hugs so much that you skipped an opportunity to train. If it got out your bad-boy loner rep would be shattered. Hunk would hug you mercilessly,” Lance joked.

Keith looked up, pillowing his head on his arms on Lance’s chest.

“Bad-boy loner rep? Why _wouldn’t_ I want Hunk to hug me?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Are you serious? You know, the tortured, broody thing you do. Everything about you screams ‘keep your distance or I’ll stab you,’” explained Lance, only half-joking. Keith’s default setting was ‘intimidatingly icy.’ Unless Lance was kissing him, or pinning him against something, or sucking his dick… in those situations he wasn’t icy or intimidating at all.

Keith frowned, and rolled off Lance, turning away from him to curl on his side.

Lance blinked. That was abrupt. Did what he said-? Was Keith _upset_?

“Why does everyone always assume I want to be alone?” said Keith quietly. He looked all vulnerable and sad with his shoulders hunched like that.

Fuck, he _was_ upset. It twisted Lance up inside as much as it had the night before, and he was immediately scrambling to fix it.  

“I didn’t mean anything by it, c’mere,” Lance backtracked quickly, sideling up behind Keith to spoon him from behind. He slipped an arm under his head and snaked the other around his waist, pulling him backwards to cinch their bodies together.

Keith didn’t protest the hold, but he didn’t relax into it either.

Lance lay his hand flat against Keith’s belly, rubbing soothing circles. That made Keith relax a little bit…

“Ya know,” Lance purred in a low voice directly into Keith’s ear, “I can kinda understand why all the girls fawned over you while we were at the Garrison.”

Lance felt a full body shiver run through Keith’s body where they were pressed together. He heard Keith take in a sharp breath, nearly a gasp _. Excellent._

“What are you talking about?”

Lance rolled his eyes.

“I forget I’m talking to the guy who couldn’t get the simplest team cheer in the history of team cheers,” he said, more to himself than to Keith.

“I _get_ it! It’s just _stupid_!” Keith protested hotly.

“It _isn’t_ , but that’s not the point of this conversation,” countered Lance.

“Well what is?”

Lance cleared his throat.

“The _point_ is that I get it now, the broody thing is pretty hot. I was _soooo_ jealous when Marisa Anderson said you make out with her under the kissing tree.”

Marisa Anderson was smoking hot, and at the time it was yet another thing Keith had beaten him at. It had been infuriating to him, girls had flipped their hair in his Keith’s face and batted their eyelashes at him and it was like he didn’t even notice.

 “So… even back then? You-” Keith’s voice had gone all soft for some reason.

“Yes _Keith_ , even back then I was determined to beat you at everything. Flying, grades, _romance_ , I wanted to win at it all,” he teased.

Keith turned in his arms so he was laying on his back, gazing up at him.

He frowned and bit his lip.

“I never actually… Marisa was _lying_. We never did whatever she said we did,” he offered nervously.

“And I think you’re remembering things… _incorrectly_. Girls didn’t fawn over me _at all_ , sounds like you’re getting me mixed up with Shiro.”

A likely story, Lance thought to himself derisively. More like Keith was so oblivious he didn’t notice, although the point he made about Shiro was true _; everyone_ had fawned over Shiro.

“I wish… I wish you’d said something back then,” Keith continued.  

“What would I have said? _‘Hey Keith, wanna make out? It’s waaaay more fun than arguing, trust me_.’”

That got a laugh out of Keith. His eyes crinkled at the corners and he looked so joyful that Lance couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him on his beautiful mouth, morning breath be damned. He’d intended to just kiss him once and pull away, but… that didn’t happen.

Instead he found himself climbing over Keith to hover above him, still joined at the mouth.

Keith easily parting his thighs to let Lance settled between them snugly, and Lance could feel how hot and hard he was through the layers of his clothes. Judging by the gasp Keith let out into Lance’s mouth, he could feel how hot and hard Lance was too.

Lance pressed his hips _down_ , Keith pressed his hips _up_ , and then they were mindlessly grinding against each other through their sleep clothes.

It felt good, _really_ good, but Lance wanted more.

He rolled them over suddenly, getting a surprised yelp out of Keith. _Yes_ , this was better; Keith straddling him, all dark-eyed and tousled hair. It was a _great_ view.

Best of all, this way Lance could reach around and get two great big handfuls of Keith’s ass. Keith liked this too, judging by the surprised moan that fell out of his mouth when Lance _squeezed._

Keith got him back by reaching down to palm his dick, which had Lance moaning and using his grip on Keith to pull him down into a hard grind.

“C-can I? I want-” Keith fingered the hem of Lance’s boxers.

“ _Yes,_ yours too,” Lance breathed back.

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He fished them both out of their pants, before grinding down to rub them together.

Who would have thought rubbing two dicks together would feel so delicious? Certainly not Lance. It occurred to him that lube would probably make this about a hundred times better, but both of them were leaking pre-come all over each other so that smoothed the way some. He made a vague mental note to see about getting a hold of some lube. _Space_ lube.   

Lance simultaneous thrusted up and pulled Keith down with the grip he had on his ass, _hard_. It felt so good that he did it again and again, first slow, and then faster and faster, until both of them were panting and breathless.

“Can I-?” muttered Lance, slipping his hands under the waistband of Keith’s pants.

“ _Yes_.”

And then Lance had Keith’s bare ass cupped in his hands and it felt just as firm and amazing as the night before.

“Keith, baby- _f-fuck_ \- you feel _good_ ,” said Lance, running his mouth, barely even aware of what he was saying.

Keith let out an incredulous laugh, that turned into a guttural moan when Lance’s fingers accidentally brushed against _his--_ Everything crashed to a screaming halt.

 _Interesting._ There was something incredibly sexy about Keith finding pleasure in being touched _there_ …

Keith flopped forward to bury his face his Lance’s neck, and Lance had no way of knowing whether it was from embarrassment or just being really overwhelmed.

“Did you like that sweetheart? Shall I touch you there more?” Lance purred into Keith’s violently bright red ear.  

Keith nodded furiously against Lance’s throat, keeping his face hidden.

Lance chuckled softly, and brought one hand up to rub soothing circles on Keith’s back. 

Then he ran the fingertips of two fingers of his other hand down, down, _down,_ rightover him, and Keith _seized,_ hips stuttering forward and then back like he desperately wanted to simultaneously rub his dick against Lance but push back on his fingers at the same time.

Lance could help with that. He ached his hips up, pressed his fingers down, and then, abruptly, with the softest sound Lance had ever heard him make, Keith _came,_ all over Lance and all over himself.

“S-sorry,” stammered Keith, somehow managing to convey utter mortification with that single word.  

“Honestly, I take it as a compliment,” replied Lance gleefully.

Replaying the tiny needy sound Keith had made would fuel his ego for days, _months,_ and he fully intended to never let Keith live it down, but first he needed to take care of business because he was so hard and turned on it _hurt._

 “You either gotta get off me or help me get off Keith,” he said, pressing his hips upwards meaningfully so Keith could feel how hard he still was.

Keith’s hand snaked between them to grip him and Lance made a choked off sound. Keith was still hiding his face in Lance’s shoulder, apparently not ready to come out yet, but he could stay there for all Lance cared as long as he kept doing what he was doing with his hand.

Keith started kissing his neck, sucking and nipping at his pulse point, moving his hand faster and faster, and then with Keith’s name on his lips, Lance came too.

He threw his head a back, toes curling and back arching, and when he came back down Keith had emerged from his hiding place in Lance’s neck and was staring avidly at his face.  

Lance’s gaze fell to the sticky mess covering his chest.

“I need a shower.”

Keith took that statement as dismissal, tripping over himself to put his clothes back to rights, and scurrying away before Lance regained enough brainpower to suggest that they share.

Keith was _fast_ and _skittish_ when he wanted to be.

Oh well, if they took a shower together it’d only make them late for breakfast; there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands to himself. The idea of a wet, naked Keith, pressed up against the shower stall was tantalizing enough that it almost made him hard again.

He quickly put the thought out of his mind; he didn’t want to be late for breakfast just in case Hunk brought them some more of those berries.

Getting Keith to take a shower with him could be a goal for another time.   

 

* * *

 

A few days later Keith came back to Lance’s room, pale and shivering in just his sleep clothes.

“Nightmare?” Lance rasped blearily, blinking against the light. He’d been asleep.

Keith nodded, looking drawn and wan.

Lance pulled Keith into his room, and onto his bed, wrapping Keith up in his arms. He felt faint tremors working their way through Keith’s body everywhere they were touching.

“You’re alright. S’safe here, go t’sleep,” he muttered, sleepily running his fingers through Keith’s hair.

And then that was just another thing that got added to his routine; train, eat, sleep, make out with Keith when they were alone together, let Keith into his room once a week or so to cuddle away his nightmares, rut against each other or exchange blowjobs like the horny teenagers they were in the morning when they woke up.

It was getting hard for him to remember that trying to finger Keith without lube was a terrible idea when he responded so beautifully to Lance just rubbing him on the outside. Lance had experimented on himself in the past with his own fingers and various objects, and he knew from experience that the line between pleasure and discomfort was very thin.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt Keith in that way, (he was perfectly happy to wail on him during training and just give him shit in general, but he knew Keith could take it during training because he was ridiculously competent at fighting, and almost all his verbal jabs just made Keith smile at him fondly, and then look smug when Lance blushed), he was already so randomly skittish. Sometimes Lance would say or do something that he thought was perfectly innocuous, but it would have Keith springing up and leaving Lance’s room as fast as he could, particularly after making Lance come with his mouth.

_I need a shower._

_Man, I’m tired._

_I’m pretty hungry._

_Gotta brush my teeth._

Lance didn’t get it. One time he just yawned really hard, and Keith had sprung up and left. Another time Keith had done something with his tongue that made Lance come so hard that he needed a minute afterwards to compose himself, and while Lance had laid there with an arm thrown over his face, Keith had slinked away before Lance could reciprocate. 

The number of times Keith slipped away from him before he could return the favor so to speak had Lance wondering if maybe he just sucked at giving head, but that didn’t add up either because whenever he managed to catch Keith and pin him down, he’d writhe and moan like it was the best thing ever.

Lance personally thought he’d gotten pretty good at coordinating his mouth, his tongue, and his hands, and he’d discovered that was a natural at swallowing which he _knew_ had blown Keith’s mind the first time he’d done it.   

He was thinking about all of this while he was chilling in Keith’s room during some downtime, laying on his back in Keith’s bed, messing with an Altean puzzle brick Coran had given him.

Keith was sitting at his desk, sketching something in an Altean notebook he’d found. It was something he did; sketch out the landscapes of the alien planets they visited in broad strokes.

He’s blushed the first time Lance told him his drawings were good, before sinking into Lance’s lap to kiss the life out of him.

Hanging out in each other’s presence like this without doing anything to each other, just quietly existing together, was something else they did now too.

“Do I suck at giving head Keith?” Lance blurted out of the blue. Since the first time, Keith had blown him like a dozen times while Lance had only managed about four times, and three of those times were with him getting down on his knees first. Every other time he’d scurried away.

The lead of Keith’s pencil broke against the page.

“Isn’t that what giving head is essentially? _Sucking_?” replied Keith weakly. Lance rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. After you do you me you leave so fast sometimes, is it because you don’t like it?”

Keith’s face turned red.

“I like it. I like it _a lot_ ,” he replied hoarsely.  

“Then why are you always trying to - I don’t know - _escape_ from me?” Lance whined.

Keith blinked.

“Escape?”

“ _Yes!_ You go down on me and then you jump up randomly and leave before I can do you sometimes. _Why?”_

Keith’s brow furrowed in confusion,

“I thought… I thought you were hinting at me to go-?”

“I was not! When have I _ever_ hinted at you to leave?”

Keith looked as confused as Lance felt.

“You haven’t been-? I-I figured you wouldn’t want- I thought you wanted me to go…” said Keith haltingly.

Lance rolled his eyes again.

“I don’t know what _‘hints’_ you’re talking about, but If I wanted you to go I’d just _tell_ you,” said Lance like he was explaining something very simple to someone very stupid. 

Keith scowled.

“I don’t need you to do it if you feel like you have to because I’ve done it to you,” replied Keith in an echo of Lance’s words the first time he touched Keith. Lance raised an eyebrow.

“Well, why do _you_ do it to me?”

Keith’s face turned even redder and he refused to meet Lance’s eye, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. _That_ piqued Lance’s interest. He rolled off the bed, Altean puzzle brick forgotten, and sauntered over to Keith.

“ _Keeeeith_ , c’mon man, you can tell me,” he cajoled, leaning his hip against Keith’s desk.

Keith shook his head vehemently.

“No way,” he deadpanned.

Lance shot him an exaggerated pout.

“ _Fiiiine_ , if you won’t tell me why _you_ do it, how about I tell you why _I_ do?” said Lance lasciviously, dropping to his knees beside Keith’s chair and setting a palm on Keith’s thigh.

Keith stared at Lance’s hand, and Lance watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He could almost see the cogs turning in Keith’s head as his blush spread down his neck; he wanted to hear what Lance had to say but he was too embarrassed to ask for it.

_Precious._

“C’mere, I’ll whisper it to you~” murmured Lance, parting Keith’s legs so he could shuffle forward on his knees, bringing their bodies close together.

Lance curled a hand into the hair at the nape of Keith’s neck to guide him down so that his lips were by Keith’s ear, leaving his other hand of Keith’s thigh to stroke languidly with his thumb.

“I do it because I like how you feel in my month,” said Lance in the lowest, filthiest voice he could muster, barely above a whisper.     

“I like how you taste. I like the sounds you make and how you _twitch_ when I’m making you feel too good. I like how you tug on my hair when you’re being greedy. I like how it feels when you’re coming down my throat, and I like the look on your face when I swallow. If you tell me why you do it to me, I’ll suck you off right now…” promised Lance, before leaning in to lay a gentle kiss against Keith’s jaw.

Keith made a chocked off sound, and Lance pulled back to look at him, feeling extremely smug when he saw Keith’s bright red scandalized face. He laughed outright, making Keith’s bamboozled expression shift to embarrassed annoyance.

“You’re messing with me!” he accused, voice much higher than normal.  

“You’re very fun to mess with, I’d like to mess around with my mouth on your dick,” agreed Lance.

That rendered Keith speechless, and left him gaping with his throat working furiously but no sound coming out.

Lance got back to his feet nimbly, patting Keith on the head consolingly.

“I can see that this is all a little overwhelming for ya mullet, so I’m gonna _go_ , but once you’ve figured out _why_ you suck me off, come tell me and I’ll reward you.”  

He winked at Keith, gave him a particularly lecherous smile, and sauntered out of the room to find Hunk and see if he had anymore of those berries. 

That _definitely_ put him in the lead. 

 

* * *

 

“Shot gun!” yelled Lance the next morning when Coran announced that their agenda for the day was to visit a space mall. 

He practically vibrated in his seat the whole ride there, despite the silly get-ups Coran had them wear to ‘blend-in.’

They ditched the costumes as soon as they Coran was out of sight, and then they split up to look for the scaultrige? Scaultrinte? Whatever the thing was Coran had them searching for. Lance knew what it looked like even if he didn’t remember exactly what it was called.

He was wandering aimlessly, checking out all the cool alien stuff, when Pidge ran up to him excitedly, and then she said ‘ _Killbot Phantasm 1,’_ Lance was suddenly just as excited.

He fucking _loved_ that game, and then in the same Earth-themed shop he spied an intriguing bottle on one of the shelves, something he’d made a mental note to pick up somewhere…

“How much to chuck in a bottle of that stuff?” Lance asked the shopkeeper while Pidge was still distracted staring at the box for the Mercury Gameflux. 

“I’ll chuck two in for free if you take Kalternecker with you,” said the shopkeeper, pointing to a real life cow he just... _had_ randomly, standing in the corner of the shop chewing on what was probably space-grass. 

He and Pidge got to work dredging the coin fountain in the middle of the mall to scrounge up enough money to buy it. 

They did it, and when they went back to the store to make their purchase, Lance surreptitiously slipped the small bottles into his jacket pocket while Pidge was busy admiring the  _Killbot Phantasm 1_ box.  

This was shaping up to be the best outing ever, but then he got clothes-lined by the building on their way out which was more bruising to his pride than anything else because Keith definitely saw him fall, and then land in an ungainly heap.

But despite that, the day over all was a win. He had _Killbot Phantasm 2_ , he had a motherfucking _cow_ , and most importantly, he had _lube._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was going to be plot? But umm I lost it amongst the filth so sorry about that. 
> 
> How's this? I kind of just word vomited onto the computer and usually I would probably try and edit it better, but this time I decided to live fast and just post it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance continues to avoid thinking too hard, and then the Blade of Mamora mission happens...

By the time they got back to the castle from the space mall, it was pretty late; everyone was ready to just go to sleep.

Pidge made off with the Mercury Gameflux, Hunk wandered off to the kitchen, and Coran set off with Kaltenecker in tow to find suitable accommodations in the castle for her. Lance wanted to go and have a shower and then maybe sneak into Keith’s room to share what he had discovered in the Earth-themed shop, but before he could decide anything Keith snagged his wrist and pulled him back to his room.

Lance was perfectly happy to go along with this development; maybe today would be the day he’d finally get Keith to take a shower with him.  

“ _Sit_ ,” ordered Keith roughly once they arrived, exerting firm pressure on Lance’s shoulders to get him to take a seat on his bed.

He expected Keith to follow that up by crawling onto his lap or something, but instead he said “ _Don’t move,_ ” and left the room very quickly, leaving Lance confounded as to what exactly was going on.  

Keith came back a short while later with a bag clutched tightly in one hand, and stomped over to to sit on the bed next to Lance.

“What are you-” the words died in Lance’s throat when Keith cupped his face with one hand, _so gently_ , turning his head slightly so he could press the bag against Lance’s temple.

It was _ice_ , and Keith was pressing it right where Lance had hit his head in the Space Mall. He couldn’t help but flinch against the cold, and at the sensation of something pressing down on a newly forming bruise.

“Hold still,” ordered Keith, eyes dark with concern, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Uh, Keith, buddy,” Lance had to stop to clear his throat nervously, “What are you doing?”

“You hit your head,” snapped Keith defensively, his tone a direct contrast to the gentle way he was handling Lance’s face.

“Yeah, but I didn’t hit it that hard,” said Lance weakly, “ _You_ hit me harder during training.”

Keith’s jaw clenched.

“During training you’re wearing a _helmet_ ,” he retorted.

Lance fell silent purely because he had no idea what to say. Keith’s genuine concern, how gentle he was being, it was rendering him a little undone and he wasn’t really sure how to react. His heart was beating faster, something warm was welling in his chest, and he had no idea why.  

“If you insist on playing nurse, you should help me shower,” he blurted. It was the first thing that came to mind; he had to say _something_ to break the weird tension building between them.

There it was, a familiar flush on Keith’s cheeks; they were back in familiar territory.

“I thought you said you didn’t hit your head that hard, why do you need my help?” huffed Keith gruffly.

“I _didn’t_ and I _don’t_. I just wanna see you naked,” said Lance, waggling his eyebrows shamelessly.

Keith glared at him, but he kept holding the ice against Lance’s temple and his face was becoming pinker by the second so Lance knew it wasn’t a serious glare. It was a glare that meant Lance was _winning._

“Why are you like this?” sighed Keith, shaking his head.

“Like what? Charming? Devilishly handsome?”

Keith coughed, and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “ _That too_ ,” but then he rolled his eyes and spoke again.

“Am I the only one that has to be naked during this shower we’re having?” he asked.

“Why Keith, if you wanna see me naked all you have to do is _ask_ ,” said Lance, fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Let’s take a shower,” said Keith.

“Wait- _really?_ ” said Lance incredulously.

“I need a shower anyway,” shrugged Keith, but his blush was spreading down his neck…

“You wanna see me naked too don’t you?” crowed Lance gleefully.

“ _You’re_ the one who said you wanted to see _me_ first!” snapped Keith defensively.   

“Yeah, but _I’m_ not embarrassed by it. You’re kind of a prude Keith,” teased Lance light-heartedly.

Abruptly Keith’s hands fell away from Lance’s face, the ice bag tumbling onto Lance’s lap. Keith recoiled as if Lance had slapped him.

The sheer _hurt_ shining in his eyes was palpable, and Keith jerked to his feet.

“Hey, hey, hey,” said Lance hastily, getting to his feet too, grabbing Keith’s wrist before he could run away. The ice bag fell to the floor with a crunch.

Lance was stunned. What did he say? Or was is something he did?

Was Keith doing the thing again where he interpreted Lance’s words much differently than Lance intended them? Whatever Keith was thinking, Lance definitely _did not_ mean it like that. He _never_ wanted to put a look like that on Keith’s face, seeing it was actually killing him.

He wondered why Keith’s default seemed to be flight with him, but fight in every other aspect of his life.

“Keith, what gives?” he asked, completely seriously.

“Nothing,” said Keith, voice suspiciously thin.  

“You know I was only joking right?”

“Oh… right…” said Keith, somehow managing to look even sadder. Something was frantically beating on the inside of Lance’s chest, driving him to do whatever it took made Keith stop looking like that.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded, grabbing Keith by the shoulders and turning him so they were facing each other.   

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” said Keith, refusing to meet Lance’s eye.

Lance pursed his lips. _Bullshit_ it was nothing. He kinda wanted to argue some more, but yelling at Keith when he was like this ran the risk of just making him look sadder, and Lance honestly didn’t think he could handle that.

So he yanked Keith in for a hug.

“W-what are you doing?”

“This is called a hug Keith, it’s something humans do it to each other sometimes,” said Lance sarcastically.

Keith huffed impatiently.

“ _Why_ are you doing it?”

“Hugging releases endorphins which makes you happy,” said Lance, being purposefully obtuse.

“Let me go,” Lance could _hear_ Keith’s scowl, and feel it in how tense he was.

“Not until you hug me back. Do you know how, or do I need to talk you through it?”

“I know how. I just don’t want to,” said Keith stonily.

Ouch… that _stung_. Lance let go of him immediately.

“I guess that’s a hard _no_ to sharing a shower then?” he joked weakly, even though the last thing he felt like doing was laughing. Humor was his knee jerk reaction when things cut him a bit too close to the quick.  

“You said you were joking,” snapped Keith.

_Ah_ . Lance could see where they went wrong. Keith thought Lance was messing with him when he said he wanted to shower together. Although… he only said he was joking _after_ Keith had gotten upset so that didn’t really explain why Keith had gone all weird to begin with…

“I wasn’t joking about wanting to see you naked,” said Lance truthfully, “ _Or_ taking a shower together.”

“Well then what _were_ you joking about?”

“I guess… my, um, manner of communicating that stuff with you was a joke? Look, I really wasn’t trying to make you…” Angry? Sad? Lance had no idea what the heck was going on in Keith’s head so he just waved his hand in Keith’s general direction to indicate the agitated state he was in.  

“Honestly half the shit I say, I _say_ because I know it’ll embarrass you and it’s cute when you blush,” blurted Lance. And then Lance himself was blushing for some weird reason, but at least now Keith didn’t look like he would gladly jump through a hoop of fire to get away from him.

They stood in awkward silence for several moments, and Lance wracked his brain for something to say. _Anything._

“Is that… um, is that hug still good?” Keith was the one to break the silence with his hesitant question, as if he was worried that Lance would say no.

“Of course! My hugs are _always_ good!” said Lance, incredibly relieved. He snatched Keith up and spun him in a silly circle for good measure in an attempt to dissipate the weird mood.

It worked because when he set Keith down, he was smiling.

“How about that shower?” said Keith.

“Are you sure?” Lance was surprised; he felt like he’d kind of inadvertently killed the mood.

“Yeah, unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting to see me naked,” said Keith wryly with a raised eyebrow.

Lance made a show of looking Keith over from the top of his head to his boots. Just like he knew it would, it made Keith blush. _Again._ Lance smirked.

“Yeah, haven’t changed my mind.”

 

* * *

 

He led Keith away to the private bathroom he liked to use that he had found during his wanderings of the castle in the early days of their stay.

Lance liked to take long hot showers, and he liked to remain undisturbed while he did it. (He also liked to jerk off where no one would accidentally burst in on him.)

Once he had the door firmly locked behind them, he turned to Keith and clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly.

“Alright! Let’s see what you’ve got going on underneath this getup…” he said, going for Keith’s jacket.

“You’ve already seen pretty much everything,” muttered Keith, obligingly letting Lance slip his jacket of his shoulders nonetheless.

“Yeah, but not all at once,” retorted Lance, pulling Keith’s shirt up over his head.

He paused for a moment to stare because _damn._ He could he tell that Keith spent hours and hours every day on the training deck; he was lean and toned, his shoulders tapering down to an impossibly trim waist. His wrists and his collarbones were spare in a way that almost made him look delicate.

Lance wanted to run his hands over every inch.

“Does that make a difference?” asked Keith nervously, pushing Lance’s jacket off of him and pulling his shirt off too, and then it was Lance’s turn to be stared at.

With a smug smile, Lance went for Keith’s belt buckle and then Keith was toeing off his boots and stepping out of his pants. Lance quickly whipped off his own jeans and shoes, leaving him in just his boxers, same as Keith.

“I guess we’ll find out,” said Lance lowly, reaching over to press the button to turn on the water. It gushed hot and fast from overhead.

“Alright, so we’ve got three options,” said Lance, “Option one: we have a shower and get clean.”

“What’s option two?” asked Keith curiously. Lance’s mouth quirked into a smile. He was hoping Keith would ask that.

“Option two is the same as option one, except we get each other off as well,” he said, reaching out to rub a thumb along Keith’s collarbone.

“And option three?” inquired Keith hoarsely, taking half a step forward.

“Option three is the same as option two except…” Lance trailed off, eyes darting over to his jacket where those precious bottles were nestled in his pocket.

“Except what?” said Keith impatiently, crowding even _closer_.

“Except I show you what I bought at the space mall, and I use it to finger you,” he blurted.

Keith’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

“W-what did you _buy_?” he squeaked.

Lance elected to just show him, stooping to fish one of the tiny bottles out of his jacket pocket, and handing it to Keith for inspection.

“Is this… _lube?_ ”

“Yup!” said Lance proudly, popping the p.  
  
“I found it in the store where me and Pidge bought the Mercury Gameflux. They actually threw it in for free in exchange for taking Kalternecker off their hands-”

“-And you want to use it on me to-to” Keith couldn’t get the words out.

“Finger you. In the ass,” supplied Lance helpfully. Keith’s face twisted into a strange expression that Lance couldn’t decipher.

“…Or not? Just an idea man, you seem to like it when I touch you there and I mean, I’ve _totally_ fingered myself back on Earth to get off so I know what feels good. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that _I_ don’t want to. I guess I’m just surprised? I didn’t think that _you’d_ want to…”

Lance raised an eyebrow.

“You gotta stop making assumptions about what I want Keith,” he said lightly, shaking his head, settling his hands on Keith’s hips.  

“I just figured that you would have done that already if you wanted to,” said Keith with a pout.

“ _How?_ We didn’t have any lube before today,” said Lance, squinting at Keith.

Keith shrugged.

“So?”

“ _So_ , that would have hurt you. Which is kind of the opposite of the point of doing it in the first place,” retorted Lance.

“Oh…” said Keith, with an adorably confused look on his face.

“Ya know, I really wonder what the heck goes on under that Mullet sometimes,” said Lance with an exaggerated sigh, flicking Keith’s forehead lightly.

Keith clapped a hand to his forehead, glowering up at Lance, and Lance could only laugh in his face because grumpy Keith was too cute.  

He plucked the bottle out of Keith’s hand, and set it on top of the soap dispenser.

“Tell you what, hot shot-” purred Lance, slipping his fingers under the waistband of Keith’s boxers, looking him in the eye and silently asking if this was still okay.

Keith put his hands over Lance’s and helped him ease them down over his hips so that was a yes.       
Lance quickly took off his own too, before taking Keith by the shoulders and pushing him back so he could get a proper eyeful.

He swallowed dryly. Keith was insanely tempting _with_ his clothes on. Without them… without them Keith was _beautiful_.

“How about we just play this by ear?” he continued hoarsely, taking on one of Keith’s hands to draw him closer, putting them both under the water.

“Yeah,” agreed Keith, and then they were kissing, slow and sensual and all pressed up against one another.

Lance let one hand roam over Keith’s wet skin, and the buried the other in Keith’s hair, angling his head so he could kiss him _deeper._

Keith made a needy sound and pressed himself closer still, pliant and willing.

“You know…” murmured Lance against Keith’s lips, “You still haven’t told me why you give me head...”

Keith made a choked off noise, and Lance started kissing down his throat.

“Tell me,” Lance urged between kisses. His reasons were twofold; he really _did_ want to know why Keith did it, and he enjoyed embarrassing Keith in this way probably way more than was healthy.  

Keith shook his head helplessly.

“C’mon, man,” Lance cajoled, nipping at Keith’s pulse point.

“I’ll reward you…” he said in a low voice, wrapping his fingers around Keith’s hardness.

“ _Oh god_ …” Keith all but whimpered.  

Lance gave him a slow pump.

“Wouldn’t that feel better if it was my _mouth_ Keith?” he said right into Keith’s ear, “I could finger you at the same time, if you want-? You just gotta say the words…”

“P-please?”

Lance chuckled softly. As much as the loved the sound of Keith begging…

“No, my love. You know what I wanna hear.”

Keith made a frustrated sound.

“I fucking hate you,” he snapped, glaring daggers, but then Lance stroked him faster and his glare melted into a moan.

Lance decided a try a different track, and he stilled his hand completely, looking Keith directly in the face.

“Please Keith? Please will you tell me?” he begged shamelessly. He _really_ liked it when Keith begged him; he was pretty sure Keith could probably convince him to do anything if he begged. He thought that maybe it was something Keith might like too…

Keith’s eyes widened comically. He blushed down to his chest, and then he buried his face in Lance’s neck.

“Fine,” he rasped. Lance gave himself a mental fist-bump. The fact that Keith needed to hide his face to get the words out was _adorable_ , and Lance found himself stroking Keith’s hair softly and caressing his shoulder comfortingly.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

Keith was silent for a beat, seemingly collecting his thoughts, or maybe steeling his nerves.

“I… um, I don’t know. I just… _like_ doing it.”

“What do you like about it?” prompted Lance patiently.  

“I… um… I like the face you make when I’m- When you- _You know_. You… you look like you’re enjoying it…”

“That’s because I _am_.”

“Right. I like that. Also, just… how it feels? Its… nice? Um… I like how you pull my hair? But you don’t… you don’t um, hold my head down or try to force it. I like that you let me set the pace…”

Lance was a little stuck on that last thing that Keith had said because it _sounded_ like he was implying that whoever he was with previously used to…

All these little things were adding up in a way Lance could no longer ignore. The way Keith was so skittish sometimes, the way he reacted so strongly to certain things, the assumptions he made about Lance’s motives... It was painting an ugly picture of whoever Keith had been with previously, and the surge of protective fury that welled up in Lance at the thought of some nameless, faceless guy holding Keith’s head down and making him-

…it was surprising in its intensity.

Lance didn’t consider himself an angry person. No one on Team Voltron had ever witnessed him _properly_ angry, and he could count on one hand the number of times in his life he had been driven to the point of actual fury; that time a random man in a shop had talked down to his mother because of her poor English accent, the time he caught his older sister’s boyfriend in the act of cheating, the first time he’d had the insult _‘faggot’_ hurled at him…

Just _thinking_ about Keith in that situation had him dangerously close to boiling point.  

“Do I have to say more?” asked Keith, oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions he had unknowingly provoked in Lance’s head.

Head…

Right, he said he was going to give Keith head.

Suddenly, he was _starving_ for it. He wanted to give Keith whatever he wanted. He wanted to bring him pleasure the most enthusiastic way he knew how. He wanted to treat Keith so well that he would be _ruined_ for anyone else after him, or maybe it was to repair the damage he suspected Keith had suffered at someone else’s hands?

Lance squeezed Keith tightly in a hug, which made Keith start in surprise, and then he dropped to his knees without a word, bracing his hands against Keith’s hips and holding him firmly against the wall.

Keith gasped at the abrupt change in position.

“Just my name,” Lance murmured, and then he swallowed Keith down whole. He was done playing for today.

Keith _groaned_ , arching his back and burying his hands in Lance’s hair.

“L-Lance, _Lance_ ,” Keith moaned mindlessly, as Lance _sucked_ like he wanted to pull Keith’s soul out of his dick.   

It was messy, it was animalistic, but it had Keith keening Lance’s name like a prayer so there was no way he was stopping.

His hands ended up on Keith’s ass, massaging his cheeks apart, dipping his fingers against his hole…

Lance pulled back to catch his breath, throat raw.

“Keith, do you want to hand me the lube?” he asked.

Keith stared down at him nervously, worrying his lip.  

“I want to make you feel good baby, I won’t do anything you don’t like. I won’t finger you until you’re begging me to,” promised Lance breathlessly. Something in Keith seemed to _give_ at Lance’s words, and he passed Lance the bottle.

Lance slicked up his fingers and got to work, sucking the tip of Keith’s cock back into his mouth so he could swirl his tongue around it, while slicking up Keith’s asshole and stroking over that muscle until it was fluttering against his fingertips.

Keith’s hips started to twitch, like he wasn’t sure if he should be thrusting forwards into Lance’s mouth or backwards on to his fingers.

Lance managed to smirk around Keith’s cock when he let out the neediest whine, and then he ground his ass against Lance’s fingers so hard he dislodged his own cock from Lance’s mouth.    

“What do you need baby? Tell me and I’ll give it to you. I need you to prove that you want it,” it was _so_ important to Lance that Keith _wanted_ this, for himself.

“ _Please,_ I want to feel-- j-just one?” Keith breathed.

“One what?”

“You fucking _know_ what!” growled Keith.

“ _Easy,_ baby, I got you…” soothed Lance.

He grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed more onto his fingers, and then he eased just the tip of his middle finger inside. He was so _hot_ and _tight_ …

Keith gasped and shook above him.

“Yes, _that_ , please, _more_.”

Lance pushed his finger in slowly as far as it would go, and sucked Keith’s cock back into his mouth, pulling a helpless moan out of Keith’s throat.

He withdrew his finger, and very slowly pushed it back in.

Keith’s hands carded through his hair, gripping tightly. He was panting; gratifyingly discomposed.

Lance pulled his mouth away, but continued stroking him absently with his hand that wasn’t already occupied. He wanted to focus on what his finger was doing inside of Keith for a minute, and he didn’t quite have the coordination yet to manage his mouth at the same time. .

There was a particular spot Lance was searching for, and if it felt as good to Keith as it did for him, he’d know when he found it.  

He crooked his finger, rubbing against Keith’s velvety walls shallowly, experimentally pressing against different areas.

Keith’s reactions were delightful, breathy little gasps, and desperate thrusts of his hips in a bid for more stimulation.  

Lance stopped stroking him with his other hand to pin him firmly against the wall.

“I’m looking for something, hold still,” he ordered, completely focused on his self-assigned task.

When Keith _seized,_ and let out the softest sound Lance had ever heard him make, Lance thought to himself ‘ _bingo_.’ He immediately set his finger against that special spot, and milked it for all it was worth, taking Keith back into his mouth while he was at it.

“H-holy shit,” Keith breathed, voice a whole octave higher than normal, “Fuck, _Lance_ , yesyesyes, _a_ \- _ah!_ ”

Keith lost the ability to speak, and for a few glorious minutes, Lance had him _exactly_ where he wanted him; completely at his mercy and getting more wrecked by the second.

And then, with a strangled cry, Keith _came_.

_Hard,_ body bowing forward, muscles clamping down on Lance’s finger, and then he was releasing into Lance’s mouth.

Lance swallowed down everything Keith gave him easily, before pulling his finger out gently.

Keith shuddered, and his knees buckled. He collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting flat on his ass, putting him at Lance’s level.

“That good, huh?” said Lance smugly.

Keith just nodded, eyes closed, lips parted as he panted to catch his breath.

Lance just stared at him for a moment… he was _really_ pretty like this, all flushed and breathless.

“C’mon mullet, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Gimme a second… I think I’m still coming,” said Keith faintly, not even bothering to open his eyes.  

Lance snorted and got to his feet. He let Keith have his minute, taking the opportunity to start actually washing himself.

He wet his hair, squeezing some of the Altean shampoo onto his hand before lathering it in. He rinsed, and repeated the process with the conditioner.  

When he next looked, Keith’s eyes weren’t closed anymore; they were watching him. _Admiring_ him.

He preened, arching his back and turning subtly to give Keith his best angle.

“You’re still hard,” said Keith, lurching to his feet.

“No shit,” replied Lance wryly, grabbing Keith’s wrist to pull him under the warm spray of the shower.

He positioned him so his hair would get wet, but he wouldn’t get water in his face, before reaching for more shampoo. Once he was satisfied with how wet Keith’s hair was, he started massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Keith let his head fall against Lance’s shoulder, and he gave a low hum of pleasure. The gesture was unexpectedly vulnerable and intimate, and Lance felt something warm bubbling up in his chest when Keith pressed an innocent kiss against his collarbone.   

“Okay, rinse,” he ordered, pushing Keith off of him and forcing his head back under the water.

Keith spluttered a little when he got water in his face, but he complied.

“You already washed my hair,” Keith protested, dodging Lance’s hands when he tried to put conditioner in.

“This is conditioner, it’ll make your hair prettier and tangle-free,” said Lance with exaggerated slowness, like he was explaining it to a five-year-old.

“Prettier…” repeated Keith thoughtfully, “Does that mean you think my hair is pretty right now?” he reasoned, cocking his head to the side questioningly in a way that was ridiculously cute.

Lance felt his face become damningly hot.

He spluttered for something, _anything_ to say, as Keith’s face broke into delighted smirk that was downright _hot_.

“Sooo, when you said-” Keith cleared his throat and put on fake voice, “‘ _Keith, your mullet is really bad, no bueno for the ladies_ -’”  

“I sound _nothing_ like that!” shrieked Lance. It came out embarrassingly high pitched. “And I stand by that statement!” he continued vehemently.

“Right, so ‘ _no bueno’_ for the ladies, but _perfectly_ bueno for Lance?” teased Keith, eyes sparkling.

Lance floundered for something to say, _again_.

“Well, it’s--it’s-- _shut up!_ ” he stuttered in the end. The more discomposed he got, the more pleased Keith looked.

“I’m just saying, you run your hands through my hair a lot-”

“Come here, you uncultured swine,” Lance growled, brandishing the glop of conditioner in his palm like a weapon.  

Keith’s eyes widened and he tried to dodge, but there was only so much room in the shower stall, and Lance had long arms.  

He caught Keith in a headlock, and smeared the conditioner into Keith’s hair with his other hand while Keith _shrieked_ indignantly, tugging at the arm around his neck in vain. He was laughing too hard to resist properly.

“ _No_ , my hair’s already clean, _get off!”_

“It’s for your own good!” Lance cackled like a villain.

After a very undignified struggle, Keith submitted to Lance’s ministrations, _giggling_ like a child through the whole process. Lance never seen him so light-hearted. He didn’t know that Keith had it in him to be so… _playful_. It was infectious, and he found that he couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot either.   

“ _There_ ,” intoned Lance triumphantly once he’d successfully corralled Keith into conditioning and rinsing his hair, “I’m _not_ saying your hair is pretty, but I _will_ say it’ll be prettier than it was before.”

He was currently running his fingers through it, letting the slick silky strands slip through his fingers over and over like water.

“You’re still hard,” repeated Keith suddenly, apropos of nothing. He set his hand on Lance’s hip, stepping in close.

“I could take care of it for you, after all, you took good care of me…” he purred, ghosting his other hand down Lance’s chest. It made him shiver.

Lance sensed a ‘but’ hanging on the end of that sentence. He slicked Keith’s wet hair back out of his face, and leaned in to press a kiss against his wet throat.

“What have you got in mind?” he asked.  

“Tell me my hair is pretty and you’ll find out.”

Jesus _fuck._ When the hell did Keith get this cocky?When did he get this _hot_?

Lance went slack-jawed and just stared for a moment, feeling his face turning redder and redder. Keith just gazed back at him steadily with those violet eyes. They promised Lance things he wanted silently.

Lance didn’t stand a chance.

“Your hair is pretty,” he breathed, and the smile Keith gave him was dazzling.

He leaned forward and slotted their lips together, kissing Lance deep and slow.

“Good boy…” Keith murmured when he pulled away, smooth as glass, and fuck if that didn’t make Lance _dizzy_ with want.

Keith dropped to his knees, and Lance’s heart jumped into his throat…

 

* * *

 

Much later, they stumbled back to their rooms, clean, sated and giddy. Keith kissed Lance at the threshold of his door, and _beamed_ that fond smile right at Lance’s face.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” Lance whispered back.   

Lance fell asleep happy, with an inexplicable flutter in his gut.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Shiro announced that they were ready to check out the Blade of Marmora Base; he’d found a way to bond with the Black Lion and block out Zarkon enough for it to be safe.

They were heading there directly after breakfast.

After that course of action had been decided, Keith was a little… off. Lance didn’t realise how used he was to Keith smiling at him, and taking his little jokey jabs in his stride, until he _didn’t._

Keith snapped at them to focus when he, Pidge, and Hunk were harmlessly joking about the shape the Mamora base might take, and to Lance it felt like something heavy had settled at the bottom of his stomach. It was bewildering that Keith could be in such a foul mood considering what they’d done to each other the night before.

Lance had woken up that morning feeling supremely well-rested and cheerful… Could Keith have regrets about the night before? Is that why he standing with his arms crossed so tightly and his posture so ridged? Had he not liked what Lance had done?

Lance’s musings were cut short when they arrived at their destination.

The coordinates Ulaz had given them led to a death-trap of a location, and when they contacted the place, the message they received in return was as ominous as you’d expect from a place run by Galra.

‘ _Only two of you may enter. Bring no weapons_.’

It sounded like a trap, and Lance didn’t want anyone near it.

“Maybe we shouldn’t, like, go in there at all-?” said Hunk, mirroring Lance’s thoughts exactly. Out of nowhere, Keith exploded.

“What are you talking about!? We _have_ to go in! This is the whole reason we came out here! There is _no_ other option!”

“Okay! Jeez, calm down,” Lance pleaded, feeling sick to his stomach. Why was Keith acting like this? More importantly, why was it making Lance feel so shit? Keith used to be this belligerent all the time, and it’d never bothered him like this before.

He turned his attention to Shiro, slipping on his false bravado like a well-worn jacket to hide how disconcerted he was.

“So, any thoughts on who’s gonna join you on this little mission? I’m thinking things are gonna get a little hot, so you’re gonna want to take someone who can stay cool.”

“You’re right. Keith, you’re coming with me,” Shiro replied.

“Keith's a hothead!” blurted Lance, “He's probably going to shoot first and ask questions later! And they're not gonna be able to answer his questions because _they'll be dead!_ ”

“We haven't yet severed Zarkon's link with the Black Lion, so it has to stay here. And the Red Lion can withstand the heat from that sun. So, yes, it'll be Keith,” said Shiro firmly.

They left right away; they only had half a varga until science Lance didn’t fully comprehend would prevent them from being able enter the Mamora base.

The way Lance understood it, the metaphorical doorway between the base and space would be closed after that for twelve hours, so Shiro and Keith would be stuck down there until the science cleared up and let them pass again.

Shiro waved, and said he’d seen them again soon, while Keith left without saying a word to anyone.

Lance had a very bad feeling about this.

 

* * *

 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Lance said to Hunk for the like the tenth time in about half a varga while they waited.

“Don’t worry about Keith, Lance. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Shiro’s there too you know, he won’t let him do anything too risky,” replied Hunk absently, more focused on whatever engineering project he was tinkering with than Lance’s ramblings.

“Who said anything about being worried about _Keith_?” replied Lance defensively, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Keith-like move.

“You just seemed worried. I’m worried too, he was acting strange this morning.”

“ _Right?!_ He was acting so weird!” said Lance, relieved that someone agreed with him.

“He hasn’t been like that since you two became friends,” said Hunk.

“Since we _what_ now?”

“You know, since you guys made up your differences or whatever and stopped arguing so much. Keith’s been really cheerful since then,” stated Hunk matter-of-factly, “He’s actually a pretty chill dude once you get past all those walls,” he continued.

“Okay, maybe we’re friends now, but we’re also still rivals!” insisted Lance weakly.

If they weren’t rivals, then what the fuck were they doing in the shower last night?

Lance couldn’t let himself think about it too hard because if he did he would realise that the whole time he’d been touching Keith, he hadn’t thought about their stupid competition _once_ . In fact, he hadn’t thought about it seriously in _weeks_. He’d been too busy mapping Keith’s body with his hands and his tongue, too busy listening to the sounds he could wring out of him. Too busy hanging out with him, and talking to him, and laughing with him, and falling asleep with him...    

Lance was nowhere near ready to examine the complicated tangle of emotions Keith inspired in him. Rivalry was a much easier relationship to maintain and manage in his head.

The fact that he’d lost sight of that simple fact - rivalry, they were _rivals_ \- just meant that Keith had tipped the scales in his favor for a while.

“I guess, but before you were like, eighty percent rivals and twenty percent friends. Now you’re eighty percent friends, and only twenty percent rivals,” said Hunk matter-of-factly.

“Whether we’re friends or not has no bearing on the fact that we are totally - one hundred percent - _rivals,_ ” said Lance stubbornly.

The thought flashed through his mind that he thought they were one hundred percent friends too. The maths didn’t add up, but he couldn’t deny it now that he was thinking about it.

Despite all the posturing, and arguments, and making out, Keith was his _friend._

It was totally fine and normal for him to be concerned about his _friend’s_ wellbeing when he was acting _off,_ right? Plus he had gone away on a mission to visit a base full of members of the race that was trying to oppress the whole universe. That shit was dangerous _without_ taking Keith’s recklessness into account, it was natural to be worried.  

The pit in his stomach meant nothing, and neither did the way his arms ached for a hug from no one in particular.  

Him and Keith were friends, and they were also rivals. Who got each other off... Often. They were friendly rivals.

Lance was sure of it. He was also done thinking about it.  

“ _Anyways_ , did you decide whether the base is like an eclair, or a donut?” he asked Hunk.

 

* * *

 

Eleven and a half vargas later, Lance’s bad feeling was vindicated. They’d gathered in the control room, waiting around for Keith to hail them from Red and say they were returning. That didn’t happen.

“The Red Lion has started attacking!” cried Coran.

“Wait, what does that mean? Why would the lion attack? Unless…” Hunk trailed off and Lance felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

The Red Lion was attacking _. The Red Lion was attacking._

“Keith…” he murmured. It meant that Keith was in trouble. Keith was in danger. Keith was being hurt-

“Allura, we have to get down there!” he cried, frantic and panicked.

“It won’t be ready for another five minutes,” injected Hunk. Lance had never been so frustrated with science he didn’t understand. Who cared that they might be torn up by the black hole, or burned up by the giant sun, when _Keith was being hurt._

It was the longest five minutes of Lance’s life.

His thoughts were a deafening chorus of ‘ _Please be okay, please be okay_ ,’ mixed with ‘ _Fucking idiot, what the fuck did he do, I’m going to_ kill _him!_ ’

When Coran started a countdown, Lance was practically vibrating out of his seat, sick with worry.

They were fully prepared to attack, when Shiro’s voice echoed over the coms.

“Princess, we’re coming back. We’re bringing someone you should meet.”

The Red Lion had stopped attacking. The Red Lion was returning to them. Logically, that meant that Keith was okay, but Lance _needed_ to see him with his own two eyes.   

He was out of his seat and running down to Red’s hangar as fast as his legs could carry him before he knew what he was doing.

The Red Lion beat him there - Red _was_ the fastest of the Lions - and three figures were already descending from his mouth.

“Keith!” Lance screamed, and all three figures looked up.

Keith looked… Keith looked…

Something dangerously hot was boiling in Lance’s stomach, one wrong move from erupting. He reached Red at the same time that Keith, Shiro, and their Galra guest arrived at the bottom of the stairs.   

It was even worse up close.

Keith looked like he had been put through a meat grinder; every inch that Lance could see of him was bruised and battered. Lance hadn’t ever seen him this hurt. There was blood dripping down his arm from a nasty slash to his shoulder, and he was standing all hunched as if he was trying to make himself smaller. As if he was _afraid._ Keith was never afraid...

“What the _fuck_ happened to Keith,” snapped Lance, rounding on Shiro, who just so happened to not even have a _scratch_ on him. Shiro just blinked at him, apparently blindsided by the force of Lance’s anger.

“Lance, _don’t_ . It’s my own fault. I _asked_ for this,” said Keith quietly, cradling his hurt arm to his chest.     

Lance ground his teeth together so hard he could _feel_ a headache coming on behind his temples.

There was nothing Keith could possibly do to deserve _this._ He looked like he was about to keel over any minute.

“You’re going to the med-bay, _now,_ ” Lance growled, stalking forward to grab Keith’s good arm and sling it over his shoulder. Even though he was furious, more livid than he could ever remember being in his entire _life,_ Lance handled Keith as carefully as if he were made of glass, mindful of his bad shoulder.

Finding out who had done this, screaming at Shiro for letting it happen, addressing the fact that Keith seemed to think he fucking _deserved_ it, that could wait until Keith was safely contained in a healing pod.   

“No, _wait_. I-I h-have to tell everyone something first-”

“Whatever it is can wait until you are aren’t bleeding out,” snapped Lance, ready to lift Keith bodily and haul him off to the med-bay if he had to.

“He’s right Keith, it can wait,” agreed Shiro gently.

“No it _can’t,_ ” said Keith, voice raw and anguished. He tried to pull away from Lance, but only succeeded in irritating his shoulder and hurting himself. He made a choked, pained sound that seemed to reach right into Lance’s chest and _twist_ , and then he was folding into Lance’s body like a house made of cards, unable to support his own weight.

Lance cradled him against his chest and laid a hand gently against Keith’s cheek.  

“My love,” he said desperately, the pet-name falling out of his mouth unbidden, “You’re hurt. You need medical attention. Nothing else matters-”  

“It does,” said Keith stubbornly, eyes suspiciously shiny.

“It _doesn’t_ Keith, no one will care,” injected Shiro.

Keith got his feet back under himself stubbornly, and stepped out of Lance’s arms just in time for the others to arrive.

The Galra that Shiro and Keith had brought back with them stepped forward, speaking for the first time.

“Princess Allura, it’s good to see that the rumours are true. You’re still alive after all these years.”

“So is Zarkon,” replied Allura coldly.

“I have to tell you all something,” injected Keith, voice wavering.

“Dude, what are you _wearing_ ?” asked Hunk. Lance had been so focused on how _hurt_ Keith was that he hadn’t really registered the strange skin-tight suit with odd purple accents. Why wasn’t he wearing his armor?

“What happened to your _face!?_ ” exclaimed Pidge.

“We sent two of our Paladins to you in good faith, hoping to make an alliance, and _this_ is the condition you return him in?” said Allura to the Galra, her tone icy and clipped.

“I’m _fine_ , it was my fault, listen to me-” said Keith desperately.

“Coran, prepare a pod. Lance, take him to the med-bay,” Allura ordered smoothly, “As for you-” she said darkly, turning back towards the Galra, but then Keith cut in again.

“I’M GALRA. I’m Galra,” he blurted desperately. Everyone stared at him in shock, Lance included.

It just… didn’t make sense. Keith felt human in his arms, felt human when they kissed, felt human in his _mouth_ . What did he mean he was _Galra?_

Lance glanced at Shiro helplessly, but Shiro was staring at Keith, every line of his face bleeding concern.

Keith must have taken the shocked silence to mean he should continue speaking, because then he was babbling.

“I-I’ve never met my mother. All I have of her is this luxite blade, which I’ve had for as long as I can remember. I was able to activate the Blade which means I have Galra blood but I didn’t know before now, I _swear_ . I wouldn’t have kept this from everyone if I’d known,” Keith’s tone was begging. It made Lance’s arms twitch to hold him, _soothe_ him, because Keith should never sound so desperate.  

“That’s enough,” he meant to sound gentle, but judging by the fragile expression on Keith’s face he hadn’t managed it. He was just _so_ angry. Not at Keith, at how _hurt_ he was, and how the guy that was probably responsible for it was just _standing_ there, cool as a cucumber.

“You heard Allura, med-bay, _now_ ,” said Lance, firmly taking Keith’s good arm and slinging it carefully over his shoulder again. Coran ran ahead of them, presumably to prepare the pod like Allura had asked.

Like he usually did when Lance put his hands on him, Keith yielded easily, falling into step with him when Lance tugged him out of the hangar and towards the elevator.

Keith breathing became more ragged the further they walked, and Lance took on more and more of his weight, until he halted their progress altogether and crouched in front of Keith, gesturing for him to get on his back.

He carried Keith the rest of the way in silence. Lance didn’t trust himself to speak without yelling, and Keith wasn’t the one he wanted to yell at.

Keith was barely clinging to consciousness when Lance sat him on the edge of a bench in the med-bay. Whatever adrenaline had been running through his system, keeping him standing long enough to speak his piece in the hangar, it was all gone now. His eyes were glazed and unseeing, his limbs limp and unresponsive.

Coran rushed over with some sort of medical scanner, and helped Lance ease Keith back so he was lying down.

He ran it over Keith’s body until it gave an electronic beep.  

“I just need a minute to calibrate the pod to Keith’s species,” he explained, “Can you get him out of this suit and into this?” he asked, handing Lance a familiar grey cryosuit before rushing away.

Lance fumbled a bit to get the unfamiliar Blade of Mamora suit undone, but he managed in the end. If he was mad when he saw the state Keith was in when he walked off his lion, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Every inch he pulled down the suit he revealed more and more bruised, marked up skin.   

By the time he got the thing off Keith, exposing the full extent of the damage, he was shaking with barely suppressed rage.

How the hell did Keith fly Red back like this?

Lance dressed him carefully in the cryopod suit, keeping his touch as light and gentle as possible, but he still drew flinches, and tiny pained sounds out of Keith’s throat, and every single one of them felt like a tiny shard of ice being directly impaled into Lance’s heart. It _killed_ him to see Keith hurting like this.  

Coran came back, and together they helped Keith walk the few steps necessary into the cryopod itself.

“That’s it number 4, we’ll have you fixed up in a tick,” soothed Coran.

Keith just nodded numbly, closing his eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispered, softly and sadly, just before Coran hit the button to close the doors and start the healing sequence.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” said Lance, even though Keith couldn’t hear him anymore. He’d say it again when Keith woke up. Coran laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, and together they stared at Keith’s pale bruised face for moment.

“He’ll be okay Lance, he’ll be out in about two quintants,” said Coran seriously. He seemed to understand that Lance needed a minute, so with a final squeeze, he stepped back and tactfully turned his attention to Keith’s monitor.    

Lance stared for a moment longer, eyes tracing over the panes of Keith’s face and that inky hair surrounding his head like a halo. Keith looked so small...

Lance’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the med-bay.

There were some aliens he needed to yell at.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Glynna Gold for proof reading this for me!! Thanks!! :) 
> 
> Characters that are really irreverent and laid-back getting properly pissed off and everyone being surprised that a literal ray of sunshine has turned into a metaphorical fire-breathing dragon is my second favorite thing, and protective Lance is my first favorite thing.
> 
> How about you? Please let me know what you think! :) 
> 
> Tune in next time for Lance making huge a scene.
> 
> Look at the beautiful art! You can reblog it from [here](http://space-mom-lance.tumblr.com/post/175801931405/right-i-like-that-also-just-how-it-feels). Thank you so much [Reika](http://space-mom-lance.tumblr.com/) for drawing it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is angry.

The Galra was still there when Lance arrived at the bridge, standing erectly in front of the others. Allura’s face was twisted into a sour expression, and Shiro looked exasperated. Hunk was shifting his weight nervously, hanging back a little bit, and Pidge was sitting at her console, tapping away.

 

“I just got done putting Keith into a cryopod,” he announced loudly. Everyone looked up at him, and he saw Hunk and Pidge exchange wide-eyed looks of concern.

 

It occurred to him that the expression his face was twisted into felt unnatural for his muscles, he didn’t often _scowl_ like this. It was different from his usual ‘angry’ pout, the one he wore when he argued with Keith, or Shiro chastised him for flirting, or he missed a target with his bayard.

 

It was closer to a snarl than glower.  


“Lance, are you oka-” Lance cut off Hunk’s cautiously asked question before he could finish.

 

“The scan said he has _three_ broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a shattered wrist, and extensive internal bleeding,” he said, getting progressively louder as he spoke. Everyone’s attention was _really_ on him now.

 

“Lance, he’s going to be okay. The cryopod-”

 

“He shouldn’t fucking _need_ to be put into a crypod!” Lance snapped, rounding on Shiro. Shiro, who had gone on this mission and come back just fine. _What the fuck had he been doing when Keith was getting the shit beat out of him?_

 

Shiro recoiled from him in surprise, eyes wide in shock, and it brought Lance savage satisfaction.

 

“What the _fuck_ happened out there?!” he demanded.

 

“You need to calm yourself,” said Allura sternly.

 

“ _I_ need to calm myself?” he said, dangerously quietly.

 

They wanted him to calm himself when Keith, tough, prickly, _Keith_ , had been so injured that even Lance’s gentlest touches had hurt him. They wanted him to be calm when Keith had come back from that place _haunted_ and _afraid._

 

Lance could feel his blood pounding in his ears, and his hands curled into fists that started to shake.

 

Everyone was staring at him like he was a wild animal, rabid and dangerous.

 

“Why are you all looking at me like that?!” he snapped. _They_ were the ones acting strangely, _why weren’t they as concerned and angry about this as he was?_

 

“Lance, we know you’re worried about Keith-” Hunk again, always the peacemaker, but Lance wasn’t in the mood for making peace.

 

“Yeah, I’m worried about Keith. Why the fuck aren’t any of you?!”

 

“Keith is going to be just fine, Lance,” said Shiro softly.

 

“Why isn’t he fine _right now?!_ ”  

 

The Galra spoke up.

 

“I was under the impression that I was here to discuss an alliance, I don’t have time to waste,” he rumbled impatiently.

 

“ _No_ ,” growled Lance.

 

“No, no, no, _no_ ,” he said, marching up the stairs to the dais where Allura and Shiro were standing with the Galra.

 

“Allura, tell me we aren’t making a fucking _coalition_ with these guys? _They hurt Keith!_ ” he bellowed.   

 

“Your Keith _knew_ what he was getting himself into; the trial of Mamora means knowledge or death. He had the option of walking away at any point but he chose not to, you should be thankful that he is still alive. His injuries are trifling, and his own doing,” said the Galra to Lance coldly.

 

_His injuries are trifling, and his own doing._

 

It was the exact wrong thing to say, like pouring water over an oil fire.

 

Fury thrummed through Lance’s veins, propelling him forward aggressively into the Galra’s space so they were barely inches apart.

 

He was two feet taller than Lance, and could probably kill him with his bare hands _and_ his legs tied together if he wanted to, but in that moment Lance _didn’t care_ , it didn’t matter.

 

Not when this motherfucker marched into their castle with _audacity_ to blame Keith for his own injuries after inflicting them on him.

 

“I fucking _dare_ you to say that again to my _face!”_ Lance snarled, lip curled, baring his teeth, thumping the Galra’s chest _hard_ with both hands.

 

Embarrassingly, he didn’t move an inch. He looked down at the spots on his chest where Lance had touched him, and then shifted his gaze further down to Lance himself, staring at him with a quizzical expression like he was a tiny stupid creature performing a very strange trick, like a dog reading a newspaper or a cat juggling pins.  

 

It just enraged Lance even more, but before he could do anything else, arms wrapped around him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides.

 

“Okay buddy, we’re going for a walk,” it was Hunk, low and soothing.

 

“Let me _go!_ ” Lance growled, trying to pull away.

 

“Get him out of here, Hunk,” ordered Allura.

 

“Allura! _Don’t_ make a deal with these fuckers!” Lance screamed, even as he was dragged away, resisting all the while. It was no use, Hunk was much stronger than him.

 

Hunk wrangled him into the elevator, and the last thing Lance saw before the door shut on them was a glimpse of everyone’s faces. Shiro looked sympathetic, Allura’s lips were pressed together into a thin line, and Pidge’s eyes were wide and uneasy.

 

The Galra just looked impassive.

 

Hunk hit the button on the control panel that would take them to the hangar with his elbow.  

 

“Let me _go_ , Hunk,” Lance demanded.

 

“No can do, amigo. I’ll let go once we arrive, for now just _breathe.”_

 

He was so angry that he didn’t even notice that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. The tips of his fingers were tingling. It was a familiar feeling; when he was younger his vagus nerve had been touchy and he’d had a few fainting spells, mostly from the vertigo of standing up too quickly.

 

Recognizing that it would be a bad idea to pass out, he did his best to do as Hunk said and regulate his breathing.

 

The elevator stopped and the door dinged open, but Hunk made no move to let him go. Slowly, the tension drained out of Lance’s muscles, and his agitation seeped away. Hunk seemed to intuitively know when Lance was no longer a flight risk, and only released him once his breathing was normal again.

 

“I can’t believe you yelled at him like that,” said Hunk, awed.

 

“Yelled at who?” snapped Lance moodily. Even though logically he knew he’d reacted maybe a _little_ over the top, he wasn’t quite ready to forgive Hunk for carrying him away like a child throwing a tantrum.

 

“ _Kolivan_ , that guy is like twice _my_ size. When you pushed him I swear I saw _your_ life flash before _my_ eyes dude. I’ve never seen you this angry before...”

 

Hunk gave him a look of concern so pure that Lance’s resolve to be irritated at him dissolved on the spot, and he let out a huge sigh.

 

“You saw what they did to Keith. _Of course_ I’m angry,” he replied.   

 

“He’s gonna be okay man. _You_ were in worse shape after Sendak attacked the castle, and the pod fixed you up just fine.”

 

That actually did make Lance feel a little better. Keith would be okay…  


“Kolivan has a plan for defeating Zarkon, which they need our help for, so I think the coalition will probably go through.”

 

That soured his mood again immediately.

 

“If any of those Mamora guys so much as _look_ at Keith, I swear I’ll-”

 

“Lance,” Hunk cut in, “Think about who you’re talking about. Keith can handle himself.”

 

“If he could handle himself I wouldn’t have had to carry him to the medbay,” Lance snapped.

 

“Well… it turns out that Keith is Galra. He’s one of them now, right?”

 

“He _isn’t_ one of them,” insisted Lance vehemently, “I don’t care if his mom was Galra or whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s one of _us_.”

 

“That’s not what I meant!” said Hunk hastily, “I just meant that I don’t think you need to worry about them beating him up again on account of him being half-Galra.”

 

“They aren’t going to get another chance,” Lance vowed.

 

* * *

 

Dinner that evening was a terse affair. Allura and Shiro had gone ahead and made that coalition with the Blade of Mamora despite Lance’s very valid and vocal protests against it.

 

It made him so angry that they weren’t even willing to wait until Keith was out of the healing-pod to at least _check_ that he was okay with it.

 

“Keith would want us to do this if it helps defeat Zarkon, which it will,” Shiro explained with infuriating patience.

 

“Keith _is_ Galra. Why would he have an issue with us making a coalition with them?” Allura said. The strange frosty tone of voice she used to speak about Keith was new, and had Lance’s hackles raising.  

 

“ _Gee_ , I dunno, maybe because they spent hours beating the crap out of him today?!” he shouted sarcastically.  

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro said warningly.

 

Lance fell into surly silence. The whole room did.

 

Usually, Lance was the life of the table, chatting and telling stories and trying to make the others laugh. He didn’t feel like talking or laughing that night. Not with Keith’s place conspicuously empty.

 

Usually this sort of tension killed Lance, but seeing as _he_ was the source of it, he was perfectly happy to let everyone stew in silence.

 

He halfheartedly pushed his dinner around his plate, only really consuming a few bites.

 

He refused to look at Shiro or Allura for the whole meal, before excusing himself brusquely.

 

* * *

 

He ended up in the med-bay, staring up at Keith’s pale face. He’d only been inside the pod for a few hours, but he already looked much better. The bruises visible on his face weren’t so sickening.

 

“I give it until tomorrow morning.”

 

Lance jumped as Coran materialized behind him, seemingly out of nowhere.

 

“Go to bed number three, he’ll be fixed before breakfast,” Coran urged gently, laying a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

 

To say Lance was reluctant to leave was a _huge_ understatement.

 

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute,” he said noncommittally, shrugging Coran’s hand off his shoulder, turning to stare at Keith determinedly.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Coran purse his lips, but he let Lance be without another word. Lance sat cross-legged across from Keith’s pod, leaning against the steps.

 

He _hated_ this. He wanted Keith to be better _now_...

 

Some indeterminate amount of time later, he was being shaken awake by a firm hand on his shoulder.

 

“Lance, _Lance_ ,” Shiro’s face materialized in front of him, blurry and frowning.

 

“I’m up, I’m up,” he slurred sleepily, blinking dazedly while not making any move to actually get up.

 

“Lance, go to bed,” said Shiro gently.

 

“But _Keith_ , I’m fine-”

 

“ _Lance_ ,” this time Shiro’s voice was underlain with steel, “That’s an order,” he said, helping Lance stagger to his feet.

 

“I’ve got it from here okay? He wouldn’t want you to make yourself sick over him.”

 

Unfortunately, Shiro was right. Lance functioned notoriously poorly on little sleep.

 

“Do you need me to walk you back to your room?” Shiro asked solicitously.

 

Lance still wanted to be mad at him, but Shiro was such an unrelentingly good guy that it was hard to hold a grudge. Lance was notoriously bad at holding grudges anyway, just as bad at it as he was at functioning without sleep.  

 

“Na, s’fine. I’m good,” he mumbled, shuffling heavily towards the door.

 

“And Lance?” called Shiro, waiting for Lance to turn towards him before continuing, “Thanks for watching over him.”

 

“Don’t mention it…” Jesus, Lance had the sudden realization that he’d hung around Keith’s pod like some sort of lovesick fool. What would Keith think if he found out?

 

“Um, _really_ don’t mention it. Please,” he said, cringing.

 

Shiro raised an eyebrow at that.

 

“Sure thing,” he replied wryly, not bothering to contain how amused he was.

 

Blushing furiously, Lance marched back to his room. He yanked off his jacket, shirt, and pants, before throwing himself into bed in just his boxers.

 

Sleep came quickly after that.  

 

* * *

 

 

Another indeterminate amount of time later, Lance was woken by a knock on his door.

 

“I’m up! I’m up!” he yelled groggily, staggering to the door. It was Hunk.

 

“Lance, you missed breakfast-”

 

 _“What?!”_ Lance shrieked, diving for his pants.

 

“Is Keith out of the pod yet?” he asked, hopping around on one leg as he tried to shove his leg into his jeans.

 

“Um, yeah. I was surprised you weren’t there to see him get out. Shiro, Pidge, Coran, and I were there…”

 

Allura wasn’t. _He_ wasn’t.

 

_Fuck._

 

It made something frantic burst to life in his belly, twisty and uncomfortable. He should have been there for Keith, just like Keith had been there for him after Sendak.

He needed to find him. For some reason, it felt critical to Lance that Keith be aware that he’d intended to be there when he got out.

 

“I slept in! _What didn't anyone wake me up?_ Do you know where he is?” he asked, voice muffled as he shoved a shirt on over his head.

 

“No, he ran off after breakfast-”

 

“Thanks Hunk, I’m gonna go find him, bye!”

 

“...Bye?” said Hunk to thin air, because Lance was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, no smut this chapter I'm afraid! Um, if that's what you're here for hope you liked this anyways :)
> 
> I'm sort of surprised at myself because this started out so silly and lighthearted and look at where we are now?
> 
> Oops? 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Keith will be back next chapter...
> 
> And once again thanks to Glynna-Gold for proof-reading this :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance just wants Keith to chill for one second. Is that too much to ask?

Lance tried Keith’s room first, and then the observation deck, but he wasn’t in either of those places.

 

“He better not be on the training deck…” Lance muttered to himself, before jogging to check the kitchen, then dining room, then Red’s hangar, and then rec room. Every Keithless room left Lance feeling more and more troubled.

 

Slightly out of breath by that point, he even checked the bridge, but only Shiro and Allura were there, heads bent over something.

 

“Shiro, do you know where Keith is?” Lance asked, ignoring Allura’s presence for the first time ever. Hunk had conspicuously not listed her name amongst those that had been there when Keith got out, and Lance was certain that, unlike him, she didn’t sleep in. Her absence had been _purposeful,_ and it was hard for him to reconcile his usual admiration for Allura with her coolness towards Keith.

 

Her face was already pinched in the cold expression she’d been sporting throughout dinner the night before. The expression she now wore whenever Keith’s name was mentioned.

 

“He should be in his room resting,” replied Shiro.  

 

“I already checked, he isn’t there.”

 

Shiro frowned.

 

“Maybe he went to visit Red-?”

 

“Nope, checked there too.”

 

He could actually see the cogs turning in Shiro’s brain, and he could tell the moment Shiro came to the same conclusion Lance had been reluctant to accept. Shiro sighed deeply.

 

“He’s on the training deck, isn’t he?” said Lance.

 

“I _told_ him to rest. Sorry Allura, we’ll have to discuss this later-,” said Shiro, brow creased in concern, already walking towards the lift.

 

“No, you stay. I’ll speak to him,” said Lance.

 

Shiro gave him a measured look that made Lance feel like an insect being pinned down and examined under a microscope.

 

“Alright,” Shiro intoned carefully, as if he’d measured Lance with his eyes and found him worthy. “See if you can get him to eat something too; he hardly had anything at breakfast. Come and get me if he won’t listen to you.”

 

* * *

 

Sure enough, Keith was on the training deck, bayard in hand, attacking a training bot as if it had mortally offended him or slaughtered his whole family or something.

 

Keith always fought with a single-minded intensity, but _this_ was something else. It was sloppy and animalistic, and as Lance watched, Keith faltered and and took a punch to the face which sent him flying across the room, and his bayard clattering to the ground uselessly.

 

“End training sequence!” yelled Lance, forcing the training bot to fall, inactive, before hurrying over.  

 

Lance reached for him, but Keith had already clambered back to his feet by the time he arrived at his side.

 

He was supposed to be telling Keith how glad he was that he was okay, he was supposed to be explaining that he had fully intended to be there when Keith got out of the pod.

 

“What the heck were you doing?” he hissed instead.

 

“Just training,” Keith muttered stiffly.

 

“You just got out of a pod, you should be resting!” Lance chastised, “Shiro told me you didn’t eat enough at breakfast. Come on, we’ll get you something to eat.”

 

“Shiro told you to… right…” said Keith, sounding like he was a million miles away in his own head.

 

“I think I know where Hunk hides his stash of those berries so-”

 

“It’s fine, Lance,” Keith cut in quietly, “You don’t have to… I-I _get_ it.”

 

“You get what?” replied Lance, completely confused.

 

“I’m just gonna go lie down,” he said quietly, grabbing his deactivated bayard form the ground.

 

“Okay, cool, good,” Keith could use the rest, Lance knew from experience that being in the pods left you drained and exhausted.

 

He fell into step beside Keith as he left the training deck. He wouldn’t put it past Keith to _pretend_ to go rest, only to come right back. He had to make sure.

 

“Are you following me?” asked Keith suddenly.

 

“Yes-?” replied Lance.

 

“I’m just going to lie down in my room,” said Keith a little desperately, and there was _something_ off about his tone.

 

Lance _knew_ it, this motherfucker thought he could go and get himself almost beaten to death and then turn around after _just_ getting out of twelve vargas of cryo to train himself into the ground like nothing had happened. Did Keith even understand how _hurt_ he had been? Did he understand just how _sick_ with worry he’d made Lance?

 

Why was he like this? He was _already_ their best fighter, the way he constantly pushed himself was, quite frankly, overkill.

 

Would it hurt him to just _rest_ , and _chill,_ for _one fucking second!_

 

“Do you really expect me to trust you to do that on your own?” Lance snapped.

 

Keith flinched. He actually _flinched_ away from Lance, and refused to meet his eye.

 

“W-what exactly do you think I’m going to do instead?” replied Keith, crossing his arms over his chest defensively and hunching his shoulders. Lance immediately hated how small it made him look.

 

“Keith, you were literally just on the training deck right now, when you were _supposed_ to be in your room _resting,_ ” Lance deadpanned.

 

“So? I can train if I want to,” snapped Keith.

 

“ _Ummm_ , not after getting beat up the way you did!” protested Lance.

 

“If I want to get better I have to train, and the cryopod fixed everything like nothing happened anyway,” said Keith stubbornly, shrugging dismissively.

 

That dismissive little shrug _infuriated_ Lance.

 

“It doesn’t work like that. Something _did_ happen, Keith,” he snapped in clipped tones. Sure his injuries were gone, but he still needed to _rest_. Being abruptly well again after something so traumatic was confusing to the body, it required an adjustment period.  

 

Lance had spent his alternating between napping and eating the treats Hunk had prepared for him. _Keith needed to sit the fuck down and let Lance bring him snacks._

 

“Well maybe I just want to ignore that it happened!” cried Keith.

 

“Fine! Ignore it if you want!” snapped Lance, “But I better not catch you on the training deck again,” he said, low and serious.

 

“ _I get it, Lance!”_ Keith exploded, “I’m already going to my fucking room! What else do you want?!"

 

The outburst left Lance stunned, and he had no idea what to say to that. He didn’t understand why Keith was so upset, Lance only wanted him to take care of himself.

 

“You gonna lock me in to make sure I stay?” Keith spat acidly when they arrived at his room.

 

“No-”

 

“Good. _Bye_ ,” Keith snapped in clipped tones, pressing a button to make the door swish shut in Lance’s face.

 

Lance only just managed to restrain himself from kicking the door in frustration. This wasn’t at all how he expected things to go.

 

He stormed off, muttering to himself about self-preservation lacking hotheads.

 

He’d give Keith a little space to calm down and get over whatever his problem was.

 

* * *

 

Keith didn’t come to dinner that night.

 

“Did you manage to find him before, Lance?” Shiro asked.

 

“Yeah. Idiot was on the training deck trying to get himself killed,” Lance grumbled, stabbing his fork viciously into his green goo.

 

Allura gave an indignant little sniff of disapproval that had Lance rounding on her.

 

 _“What?_ ” he snapped.  

 

“Nothing,” she replied primly, dabbing daintily at the corners of her mouth.

 

“If you have something to say just spit it out.”

 

Allura cleared her throat, “Keith is _Galra_ . You can’t have the same expectations of politeness and consideration of him because war and destruction are in his _blood._ ”

 

Before Lance could answer Hunk spoke up, “Um, I don’t think _missing dinner_ is on the same level as _war_ and _destruction_. Or even correlated at all…”

 

Shiro’s chair scraped back as he stood, the sound jarring. The disappointed look he was leveling at Allura made Lance flinch where he sat, and it wasn’t even directed at him. He was surprised that Allura wasn’t melting into a puddle of shame, because that’s what he would be doing if Shiro looked at him like that.

 

“If you say _one_ unkind word to him, Allura…” he said quietly, face uncharacteristically hard. He left the threat hanging for a beat, before grabbing his bowl of goo, along with the bowl that had been placed in Keith’s empty spot, and quitting the room.

 

The look on Allura’s face as she watched his retreat was stricken, and she muttered a quiet “ _Excuse me,_ ” before leaving the table too, exiting through a different door.

 

Coran chose that moment to arrive, balancing a plate of… something in his arms.

 

“Where’s Keith? Where’s Shiro? Where’s Allura?” he asked, completely immune to the tension in the room, looking around as if they might be hiding in the corners or under the table.

 

“I think it’s just us tonight, Coran,” offered Pidge.

 

Coran shrugged.

 

“Oh well, more fellkoffer for us in that case!”

 

* * *

 

That night, for once, it was _Lance_ who had a nightmare. A nightmare where Shiro returned from the Blade of Mamora base _alone._

 

 _“Where’s Keith?!”_ he demanded of dream-Shiro.

 

_“He didn’t make it...”_

 

 _“Well, he was_ **_Galra_ ** _anyway,”_ dream-Allura said coldly.

 

 _“It was his own fault. He didn’t know when to give up,”_ dream-Kolivan said impassively.

 

Lance was out of bed and all but sprinting towards Keith’s door before he even consciously made the decision to go there.

 

He knocked urgently, fear and worry still burning through his veins.

 

Even though it was very late in their sleep-cycle, Keith appeared at the door fully clothed and clearly awake. It made Lance painfully aware that he’d run here in just his boxers and socks.

 

He hadn’t been in a good mood when he went to sleep, so he hadn’t bothered with his usual routine, opting to take his clothes off and fall into bed lazily, utterly disgruntled with how the day had gone.

 

“Lance-? What are you--”

 

He was supposed to be giving Keith space or whatever, and if that was what Keith wanted he’d give it to him, just… after a hug.

 

Keith let Lance wind his arms around his neck, and bury his face in his shoulder which was a good sign. It felt like forever since they’d touched each other.

 

“W-why are you here?” stuttered Keith.

 

“Hug me back,” said Lance.

 

“But-but _why_ are you hugging me?”

 

“Bad dream,” Lance mumbled, tightening his grip on Keith impatiently because he _wasn’t hugging back like he was supposed to._

 

Suddenly it occurred to him that maybe… maybe Keith didn’t want to keep doing whatever they were doing. Maybe this was him trying to forfeit their competition.  

 

He let go and stepped back from Keith abruptly, lips pressed together into a thin line, biting the inside of his cheek. The idea of _not_ doing things with Keith anymore was distressing. Much more distressing than he would ever have expected it to be.

 

It wasn’t even the fact that he would be missing out on getting off, it was that he’d be missing out on being _close._ To _Keith_.

 

Would Keith still let Lance explain movies to him? Would he still ask Lance to sing songs he liked? Would he still crack a smile despite himself at Lance’s lame jokes?

 

Or would everything go back to the way it was before? Insults and petty squabbles.

 

It wrenched something in Lance’s chest, and pinched something behind his eyes, making them grow hot and moist.

 

“Are you backing out?” he demanded roughly. Keith blinked, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 

“ _Backing out?_ ” Keith repeated, “But-but _you_ said--” he cut himself off abruptly, looking at Lance with wide eyes, as if the look on Lance’s face surprised him.

 

“I _said_ what?” snapped Lance impatiently.

 

“I… I didn’t think you’d _want_ to anymore… with me being… you know…” said Keith haltingly, staring down at his feet.

 

“ _Galra?_ ” Lance blurted. The word make Keith flinch, but all Lance could think was that Keith being Galra was _not_ a good enough reason to back out. The vulnerable distressed parts of him perked up, heartened by Keith’s words. However, he purposefully and expertly ignored why that was.

 

“I don’t care that you’re Galra,” Lance said firmly, “Don’t avoid me because you think I don’t want to be around you, that isn’t _fair,_ ” he said, a slight edge in his voice.

 

“You have to stop assuming you know what I want, Keith, because no offence, but you sort of _suck_ at guessing,” he continued more softly, putting his arms around Keith again. This time Keith hugged him back, trembling faintly and turning his face into Lance’s neck. Lance reveled in every place they were pressed together. Keith fit his arms so perfectly, like he _belonged_ there...

 

“So, what do you want now?” asked Keith a few minutes later, the words muffled into Lance’s shoulder.

 

“I want you to let me in.”

 

Wordlessly, Keith pulled back, took Lance’s hand, and tugged him inside.

 

Keith dimmed the lights with a spoken command before climbing into his bed.

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” blurted Lance, tugging Keith’s hand, “Are you going to sleep wearing _that?_ ”

 

Keith looked down at his fully dressed body.

 

“Yeah-?”

 

Lance tugged harder, pulling Keith to stand in front of him.

 

“You can’t sleep wearing this,” he let go of Keith’s hand so he could push Keith’s jacket off of his shoulders.

 

“Is that so?” said Keith, raising an eyebrow, but he let Lance divest him of it anyway.

 

“ _Yes._ It _is_. That’s _daytime_ clothing, and right now it’s _nighttime_. That’s just the way it is. Now, are you gonna take off your pants or do you need me to do that for you too?” Lance asked, hanging Keith’s jacket up on the hook by the door.  

 

Keith shrugged.

 

“ _You’re_ the one that’s hung up on them so you should take them off.”

 

“Fine, I will,” retorted Lance, stepping in close to Keith, and reaching for his belt.

 

With that, the mood shifted.

 

Keith watched him with dark eyes as Lance undid his belt, undid the button and then his fly…

 

“Oops…” said Lance, smirking as he dragged down Keith’s boxers along with his pants.

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but it was fond, and he kicked both items of clothing off the rest of the way nonetheless.

 

“While we’re at it…” Lance went for the hem of Keith’s shirt. What he revealed dampened the mood just as quickly as it had been established.

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance breathed, dropping his suave act, because Keith’s torso was _riddled_ with bruises. He brushed his thumb lightly over a particularly dark mark on Keith’s shoulder. Lance sighed heavily.

 

“What am I going to do with you?” he tutted, “You _just_ got out of cryo, this is why we’re supposed to train with our _armor_ on.”

 

Keith crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously.

 

“I can put my shirt back on if it bothers you--”

 

“ _No!_ ” Lance cried automatically, before freezing and blushing.

 

“I-I mean, it _bothers_ me when you wreck yourself on the training deck, but it _doesn’t_ bother me when you have your shirt off.”  

 

The self-conscious looked melted right off Keith’s face and he stood a bit straighter, cocking his head to one side.

 

“It doesn’t? Not even a little?” there was the tiniest curl, just the _beginnings_ of a smirk on Keith’s lips, and Lance couldn’t even find it within himself to be annoyed.  

 

Instead Lance let his eyes roam… _Damn_ Keith looked good naked.

 

“Maybe _a little_ ,” he allowed hoarsely.  

 

The tiny curl bloomed into self-satisfied open-mouthed grin and _fuck_ if it wasn’t sexy. Smug Keith used to _infuriate_ him, and now all it did was make him hard.

 

Lance cleared his throat, “ _Now_ you’re ready for bed,” he declared.

 

“ _I’m_ ready,” murmured Keith, climbing under the covers, “But what about _you_?” he gave Lance’s boxers a pointed look.

 

Lance shucked off the offending garment quickly, before climbing in next to Keith, tangling him up in his arms. It was so nice to be pressed together like this, skin to skin. Keith was warm and firm, and he smelled like Altean soap.

 

He rolled them over so Keith was on his back and he could hover above him, leaning in to very gently kiss one of the bruises on Keith’s torso. He kissed the dark mark on his shoulder too, before slowly mouthing his way upwards.

 

He intended to slowly make his way up to Keith’s mouth, when Keith spoke softly.

 

“Does… does it really not bother you?” he sounded so unsure, so _vulnerable_ , that Lance had to stop what he was doing to sit back and stare down at him. The expression on his heart-shaped face was so open, and his violet eyes were so, so _soft._ He looked so inviting like this, all that inky hair spread out on his pillow, with those soft pink lips parted...

 

“No,” said Lance seriously, running his thumb over Keith’s bottom lip gently. It was true. As a rule he didn’t discriminate against people for things they couldn’t help. He watched Keith’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

 

“A-are you sure?” he asked.

 

“Keith, _yes,_ I’m sure. _No_ , it doesn’t bother me,” insisted Lance, “You’re still _you_. Did I… Did I do something to make you think otherwise?” he asked.

 

Keith took so long to answer that Lance shifted to prop his chin up on Keith’s chest, giving him an expectant look. He actually wanted an answer to his question because Keith’s thought process was still a fascinating mystery to him.

 

“Well… Shiro said you didn’t want an alliance with the Blades,” he said slowly.

 

“I _still_ don’t,” agreed Lance.

 

Keith looked hopelessly confused.

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

Lance reached up and pressed his thumb in-between Keith’s eyebrow to smooth out the furrow. He thought for a moment, gathers his words a bit, before speaking again.

 

“Keith, let’s say me and Shiro go on a mission to make some allies--”

 

“Should be Shiro and _I_ , and what’s this got to do with--”

 

“Ah, ah! _Hush_ . Listen to the scenario. _Let’s_ say Shiro and _I_ go on a mission to make some allies or something, and Shiro comes back beaten within an _inch_ of his life. He’s horribly _hurt,_ and _upset_ , and we have to put him in a cryopod for a day. Would _you_ want to make an alliance with the aliens that did that to him?”

 

Keith huffed.

 

“It’s not the same--”

 

“You’re right,” Lance interrupted, “I forgot to mention that these hypothetical aliens blame _Shiro_ for his life-threatening injuries, and are _huge_ dicks about the whole thing--”   

 

“My injuries weren’t _life-threatening-_ -”

 

“No, no, no, we’re talking about hypothetical _Shiro_ , although we’ll have to agree to disagree about _your_ injuries because last I checked extensive internal hemorrhaging caused by shattered ribs puncturing your insides _can_ be life-threatening--”

 

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” groaned Keith, “You just seemed so _mad_ when we got back, and you weren’t there when I got out so I thought it was a _hint_ \--”

 

“You and your imaginary _‘hints,’_ ” tutted Lance, shaking his head.

 

“What was I supposed to think!?” cried Keith.

 

“For the record, I was angry that they hurt you,” that was an understatement; he’d been absolutely _livid,_ “Wouldn’t you be mad if any of us got hurt like that?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly happy when Sendak blew you up,” Keith reminded him.

 

“Aw, Keith! You _do_ care! I’m flattered,” crowed Lance, batting his eyelids exaggeratedly, inordinately pleased by the fact that Keith had been worried for him back then, well before they were friends.   

 

 _I punched Sendak!_ Keith had sounded mortally offended, and in hindsight, Lance felt a little bad for how flippant he’d been about Keith’s contribution, and Keith’s concern.

 

“Well... _yeah_ . I _was_ there when you got out of cryo, remember?” said Keith, wearing that stupidly fond smile with a soft soft look in his pretty eyes.

 

That made Lance’s face fall. Keith had been there for him when he got out of cryo... Lance hadn’t been there for Keith.

 

Keith seemed to realise what he was thinking because his eyes widened in dismay.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that as a dig at you, it’s _fine_. I shouldn’t have assumed--”  

 

“Keith,” Lance interrupted, and the other boy fell silent.

 

Keith had thought that Lance didn’t care about what had happened to him. Keith had thought that his absence that morning was purposeful, he’d been _upset. So_ upset that he’d pushed himself way too hard on the training deck, and was now covered in bruises… It made Lance’s heart hurt.   

 

He wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders and yanked him into a tight hug.

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I meant to be there, I’m _sorry_ I wasn’t,” Lance pulled back and found himself cupping Keith’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.  
  
“I was up late last night--” _sitting outside your cryopod like a damn idiot_ “--and I slept-in through breakfast.”

 

“It’s fine. Really--” Keith insisted.  

 

“Let me make it up to you,” breathed Lance, leaning down to kiss Keith’s neck.

 

“You don’t have to-” said Keith.

 

“Let me rephrase that, I _want_ to make to make it up to you,” Lance amended.

 

“...How?” Lance smirked. He had Keith’s undivided attention; interest was written in his eyes.

 

“Anyway you want me to, my love,” purred Lance, peppering kisses across Keith’s face.

 

“It’s really okay, you had a ni--” Keith choked off when Lance reached down and took his cock into his hand, “Ni- _nightmare,_ ” he ground out.  

 

“So this’ll kills two birds with one stone; I’ll make it up to you _and_ I’ll forget all about my dream…” truth be told his nightmare had been forgotten already; it didn’t stand a chance next to naked Keith.  

 

“Are you sure?” asked Keith breathlessly, arching into Lance’s hand.

 

“ _Yes_. Let me make you feel good…”

 

Lance proceeded to shimmy down Keith’s body and devote attention to every single bruise on his torso, kissing each one gently, even as he continued to stroke him.  
  
“W-what are you doing?” asked Keith.

 

“What does it look like I’m doing? Didn’t anyone ever kiss your boo-boos better for you when you were a kid?”  

 

“Oh, right,” replied Keith softly.

 

Lance shimmied down even further so he could replace his hand with his mouth on Keith’s cock.

 

Keith was hard now. Hard and trembling, making the small sounds of gratification that Lance loved to eek out of him so much.

 

He watched Lance with those beautiful eyes, dark with lust, and threaded a hand through Lance’s hair, stroking, _encouraging._

 

Lance rewarded him by taking him as deep into his throat as he could manage without choking, which was pretty far.

 

“ _Lance--”_ Keith moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head, back arching. Lance couldn’t hold back a moan either because Keith was fucking hot like this, and then he was bobbing his head and sucking like his life depended on it, faster and _faster_ , while Keith _writhed_ and chanted his name brokenly--

 

Keith came with a guttural moan, hand fisting Lance’s hair painfully, but Lance didn’t mind. He actually kinda liked the sensation, and he drank down every drop Keith gave him, sucking him until he was soft, clean, and completely enervated.

 

“Feel better?” asked Lance, wiping the back of his mouth before crawling back up to lay on his side beside him. He lay his palm over Keith’s chest. Boy his heart was beating quickly…

 

Keith nodded weakly, eyes closed, lips parted as he gulped down air desperately.

 

“Gimme a minute…” he said roughly.

 

Lance chuckled. Keith looked halfway to falling asleep already.  

 

“Go to sleep, you’re _beat._ I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

Lance pulled Keith to him so his head was pillowed on his shoulder. Like this he could rhythmically stroke over Keith’s hair, and hold his hand where it lay on his chest.  

 

“Alright,” murmured Keith softly, breaking into a yawn.

 

He nuzzled himself deeper into Lance’s embrace, and the action was so sweet and endearing that Lance couldn't help but drop a kiss on the top of Keith’s head.

 

Keith’s breathing evened out and deepened quickly, and he fell asleep, relaxed and comfortable in Lance’s arms.

 

Lance’s last thought before drifting off himself was that he wouldn’t mind going to sleep like this every night...  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Glynna Gold for proofreading this for me! You have them to thank for the decrease in typos. :) 
> 
> What did you think?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith chooses a very pleasant way to wake Lance up.

Lance woke slowly.

 

He was utterly comfortable and content, laying on his back with a warm weight pressed firmly again his side. 

 

“This okay?” murmured a voice softly in his ear, as hair tickled his cheek. Something warm touched his chest,  _ caressing _ .

 

Lance hummed in assent, not bothering to open his eyes. The touch ghosted over his skin, stroking first his left, then his right nipple. He shifted restlessly, rubbing his legs together and arching his back, letting soft sounds fall uninhibitedly from between his lips. 

 

He felt the low rumble of an amused chuckle against his neck, and then lips were kissing his skin, mouthing their way lazily towards his jawline.

 

The hand - Lance was awake enough to register that it was a hand now - started sliding down his body, lingering over the muscles of his abdomen until it reached the apex of his thighs. 

 

“ _ Keith _ ,” Lance moaned, as that warm hand wrapped it’s fingers around his hard cock. 

 

Lance buried a hand in Keith’s hair and turned his head, blindly kissing the parts of Keith’s face he came into contact with. 

 

“Feels good, baby,” he murmured, as Keith started to work him _ faster _ .

 

Lance could feel Keith’s erection against his hip, hot and excited where Keith pressed up against him rhymically.  

 

Lance released his hold on Keith’s hair and let his hand trail down over Keith’s back, feeling every one of his vertebrae on the way down. Lance cupped his ass and  _ squeezed _ , and Keith shivered against him.

 

“Hey, Lance,” Keith murmured softly.

 

“Mm-Hm,” Lance hummed lazily in reply, still shamelessly groping Keith’s ass. 

 

“Do you want to make--” Keith cut himself off abruptly.

 

“Do I want what?” prompted Lance, giving Keith’s ass a small smack. Lance grinned when he felt Keith jolt against him.

 

“ _Doyouwanttofuckme?_ ” Keith blurted very quickly, hiding his face in the crook of Lance’s neck and going stock still. 

It took a moment for Lance to parce what Keith had said; Keith had spoken so quickly and he was still half asleep. 

 

Once he understood, he snapped out of his drowsy haze completely.  

 

“What-?” he exclaimed faintly.

 

“I said, do you want to fuck me?” Keith snapped.

 

“Like, right  _ now? _ ” clarified Lance. 

 

Keith nodded, the tension in his body transferring over to Lance everywhere they were touching. 

 

Lance brought both arms up to hold Keith securely, rubbing the spot between Keith’s shoulder blades with one hand, and cupping the back of his head with the other. 

 

“My love, look at me,” Lance urged.

 

Keith unburied his face like Lance asked, and the look on his face hit Lance in a soft spot. Those big dark eyes were filled with apprehension, and he was worrying his bottom lip.

 

“Stop that,” admonished Lance gently, smoothing his thumb across Keith’s lips, before pushing strands of inky hair out of his face so he could lay a tender kiss on his cheek. 

 

“Tell me why,” he said patiently. 

 

Keith brow creased in confusion. 

 

“Look, if you don’t want to, I’m not gonna pressure you. It’s fine. I’m just offering-”

 

“I want to, Keith. God, I’d  _ love _ to-”

 

“Great!” Keith breathed, beaming brightly, before leaning in to seal his mouth over Lance’s. 

 

He must have gotten up out of bed at some point because he tasted minty, and the tips of his hair that brushed against Lance’s face were dripping water. Keith’s enthusiasm was intoxicating, and Lance buried both hands in his hair, and lost himself in the kiss.

 

Keith threw a leg over Lance’s torso, shifting to straddle him, and because they were both still naked and achingly hard, Lance felt Keith’s cock drag over his own.

 

They both moaned when Keith pressed them together more insistently. Lance would probably come from just this if Keith kept up the sweet little motions of his hips, but he didn’t. 

 

He moved up to press Lance’s cock down lower, and Lance could feel how slippery he was already…   
  
“Wait, wait, wait.”

 

Keith froze like a deer in headlights.

 

“Keith, what are you-? You’re already-?  _ When-? _ ” Lance had so many questions warring to be asked that he ended up blurting a lot of nonsense at Keith.

 

“I already prepped, you can just do it. Fuck me,” explained Keith. 

 

“Hang on a second, when did you do that? And more importantly, _ why? _ ” 

 

“Um, you sleep like a rock, so I went and got the lube out of your room, and did it...” said Keith, confidence visibly draining out of his body as he spoke. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, fretful and sad, when Lance just stared at him dumbly. Lance was just having a little trouble computing the fact that Keith had snuck out and done all of that without him. 

 

“I thought you’d want to-? I shouldn’t have assumed, I don’t mean to pressure you, you don’t have to-” 

 

_ “Keith, _ ” interrupted Lance, making him fall silent, “Can you just explain to me why you snuck off to prep without me?” 

 

“I didn’t know if you’d want to or not, and just in case I wanted to be ready-”

 

“Didn’t know if I’d want to have sex?”

 

“Well, that too. I mean I didn’t know if you’d wanna do the prep…” 

 

“Let me get this straight,” said Lance, feeling as though Keith had put a crack in his heart, “You want me to fuck you-” Keith nodded bashfully, “so you snuck off to prep yourself because you didn’t know if I’d have the patience to do it for you?”

 

Keith nodded, looking relieved that Lance understood. 

 

“Don’t want it to hurt--  _ what? _ ” said Keith fretfully at the thunderous expression on Lance’s face. 

 

Lance sat up and pulled Keith into a tight hug, feeling helpless. Whoever the fuck Keith had been with before better _ hope _ Lance never ran into him because Lance had a lot of words for him, and possibly a fist or two. 

 

“Keith, I wouldn’t do anything to you if it  _ hurt. _ You know that right?” he said.

 

“I just… I didn’t want to offer without being prepared,” mumbled Keith sheepishly, “but you don’t want to so it’s fine--”

 

“Hang on just a minute,” said Lance, pulling back so he could see Keith’s face, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to. It just bothers me that you thought you had to sneak off and get ready by yourself! It-it makes me feel like you see me as some sort of brute that wouldn’t care enough to make sure you’re ready and comfortable.”

 

Keith’s face crumpled into horror.

 

“I don’t think that  _ at all _ ,” he cried vehemently, “I just- It’s just- Before-- H-he never--” 

 

“Hey, hey,” said Lance soothingly, “You don’t have to explain, it’s alright,” he said hastily, because the more words Keith tried to string together in that vein the more upset he looked and Lance  _ hated  _ it. 

 

“I just… don’t want this to be something you’re  _ forcing  _ yourself to do because you think it’s something  _ I  _ want.” 

 

“No, I want it too,” insisted Keith earnestly. 

 

“Did you just not want me to help you prep? I thought you liked it when I fingered you-?” said Lance, brows creased in confusion.

 

“I-I guess I wouldn’t mind? That’d be nice, but I don’t want you to feel  _ obliged- _ -”

 

“I don’t feel obliged, I  _ want _ to.”

 

Keith looked dazed by this information, and all Lance could feel was frustrated because how did Keith not know that whoever was allowed to get their hands on his perfect body was fucking blessed? How did Keith not know how honored Lance was to be the one allowed to touch him like this? 

 

“Would you not wanna do that for me? Wouldn’t you wanna open me up yourself before fucking me?” Lance continued in a low voice.

 

Keith let out a little whimper, eyes round a saucers.

 

“You’d want that-? You‘d  _ let _ me?” he whispered.

 

Lance rolled his eyes.

 

“ _ Duh, _ feels good with fingers, right? I bet it feels  _ way _ better with a real cock. But anyway, you can do me next time. For now, let’s… start over,” suggested Lance, “ _ Sex _ . We both wanna have sex, right? You want me to fuck you?” 

 

“Yeah,” breathed Keith, staring at Lance with his big earnest eyes. Lance’s heart skipped a beat, and something soft and tender rose in his chest. He had to make his good for him; Keith deserved something good.  

 

“Did you bring the lube with you?” Lance asked.

 

Keith nodded, and passed him the small bottle.

 

“Now, be a good boy and lay back so I can check…”

 

“G-good boy?” stuttered Keith, looking like he’d been hit over the head with a baseball bat. Lance smirked knowingly. 

 

“Yes Keith, a _good_ _boy_ ,” he drawled _extra_ slowly, making Keith snap out of his stupor enough to throw him a half-hearted glare, that was at odds with the redness of his cheeks and how hard his dick still was.  

 

“Check what?” asked Keith, reclining against Lance’s pillows, and spreading his legs invitingly. The move was brazen, but his cheeks were still red, and Lance felt so much affection for him in that moment that he _ had _ to lean over him to kiss him. He needed his lips against Keith’s, needed to taste him and feel their breath mingling together, needed to stroke the curve of his jaw and pet his hair back from his face. 

 

“Check how well you prepped yourself for me,” said Lance hoarsely once he managed to peel himself away. He squeezed some lube onto his fingers before shifting down to settle his shoulders in between Keith’s thighs. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but then Lance started touching him and it make his eyes roll into the back of his head for a very different reason. 

 

Keith  _ had _ been thorough; two of Lance’s fingers slipped inside of him easily.

 

“C’mon, Lance. ‘M ready,” Keith panted, helplessly rocking his hips up into the motion of Lance’s fingers. 

 

Lance smirked. 

 

“No you’re not…”

 

Lance set about teasing Keith mercilessly. He kissed and licked and sucked on the sensitive skin of his thighs, trailed his fingers with ghostly lightness over Keith’s hard, weeping cock, and brushed over Keith’s prostate with not quite enough pressure over and over again until Keith was begging for him, writhing and twisting helplessly. 

 

“Please, please,  _ please _ . I’m ready, c’mon!”

 

“Will you let me help next time?” he asked, twisting the three fingers he had buried inside of Keith lovingly.

 

“ _ Yesss _ ,” moaned Keith, hips twitching.

 

“Do you believe me when I say I  _ want  _ to do this to you?” 

 

“Fucking hell!  _ Yes!  _ Will you just fucking do the rest already!?” Keith snarled. 

 

Wordlessly, Lance grabbed the lube to slick himself up, before shifting back up to settle his hips between Keith’s spread thighs, letting his cock rest against against his slippery, relaxed entrance. 

 

That was when he noticed that Keith was trembling. Every limb of his body was, like a leaf. 

 

“What’s the matter, my love?” Lance asked softly, concerned, “We can stop if you’re not ready-”

 

“No I want to! I’m-I’m just  _ nervous _ , never went through with this part before,” Keith admitted grudgingly.

 

“Neither have I,” replied Lance, feeling everything in his heart go soft. He’d make this good. He  _ had _ to, he’d be so careful and gentle, he’d never hurt Keith like his asshole-ex must have.  

 

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, kissing Keith’s forehead impulsively, “We’ll take it slow. You wanna stop, you tell me okay?” 

 

Keith let out a breath.

 

“Okay.” 

 

“Atta boy,” said Lance, beaming down at him and stroking his hip. 

 

“Just relax for me,  _ breathe _ ,” he crooned, cupping Keith’s cheek tenderly, and then, ever so slowly, he pressed his hips forwards. 

 

Keith make a choked off sort of sound, and spread his legs wider.

 

“O-oh,  _ Keith, _ baby,” Lance groaned, as he was enveloped in Keith’s warmth. 

 

“So tight, so sweet. Relax for me,  _ mi amor _ ,” he choked out, carefully easing in an inch, before pulling out just as carefully, only to press back in few more inches. All the while Keith made the sweetest little greedy sounds, deep in his throat, fisting his hands in the blankets by his head and canting his hips up in an effort to get  _ more. _

  
Lance let out a strained chuckle at Keith’s enthusiasm.

 

“Hey, hey, slow down. Lemme do this right,” he urged with a crooked grin, gripping Keith by the hip to hold him still so he could keep up the very slow and careful backwards and forwards thing he had going on, until,  _ holy fuck,  _ he was fully seated inside Keith’s body.

 

He held completely still for a moment, kissing Keith’s brow, his cheeks, his mouth, just to give them both a moment to adjust.

 

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” Lance murmured.   
  
"I can feel your heartbeat," Keith replied, staring up at him in wonderment. Their eyes locked for an unbearably intimate moment, and Lance felt like he might drown in the depth of Keith’s eyes. 

 

Lance broke the spell by giving Keith one slow thrust, sliding out and then back in like a  _ dream _ . Nothing had ever felt so good, and it seemed like Keith agreed with him, judging by the way his hands clawed marks into Lance’s back as he scrambled to hold on, and the absolutely biblical sound of his voice as he moaned, high and loud, with his head thrown back in abandon. 

 

“ _ Again _ ,” Keith demanded through harsh pants.

Lance was powerless to do anything but oblige, and  _ god _ if this wasn’t the best thing he’d ever felt in his life. 

 

He slid an elbow behind one of Keith’s knees to spread him wider, and fucked into him with slow deep thrusts. 

 

“Harder, faster,  _ please, _ ” moaned Keith, bucking wildly underneath him. Lance wasn’t surprised that Keith was like this; voracious, _ insatiable _ . It made sense that his fiery temperament bled into this aspect of his life, and Lance _ reveled  _ in it. He obeyed Keith’s pleas, upping the pace and slamming his hips into Keith’s with more force. 

 

The slapping sound of flesh on flesh filled the room, along with their panting, and Keith’s soft whimpers and sighs.  

 

“You’re perfect, Keith,” Lance breathed, running his mouth because he was powerless and Keith felt too good, “fuckin’  _ gorgeous _ , baby.”   

 

Keith hands snaked around him to grip the globes of his ass, and Keith pulled him deeper and harder, into and against him, chanting Lance’s name like it was the only word he could remember.  

 

Lance buried his face in Keith’s neck and kissed every bit of skin his lips found, nibbling on the spot where Keith’s shoulder met his neck, moving up over his adam’s apple, up over his jawline, until he found that plush, generous, mouth. He licked into Keith like he was starving, and moved his hips like it was the only way to get the oxygen he needed to breathe. 

 

He adjusted the angle a little, never breaking the even pace he had set, and he hit a spot inside of Keith that made him go _ wild.   _

 

Tears filled his eyes, and clung to those ridiculously long dark lashes as he writhed and begged for even  _ more.  _

 

“T-touch me please, gonna come, Lance. Ohgodplease,  _ please _ , Lance, touch me--”

 

Lance released Keith’s knee to reach down between them to fist Keith’s length, and he barely had to  _ touch _ him before he was coming, tightening around Lance’s cock, and erupting all over his own belly.

 

Lance followed hot on his heels, the rhythmic tightening of Keith’s clenching muscles too much for him to handle.

 

He barely managed to pull out in time, and he spilled all over Keith’s belly too, adding to the mess. 

 

In that moment, with his head foggy with pleasure and every one of his muscles shaking with exertion, Lance looked down and was just _ struck  _ by the vision Keith made below him _.   _

 

He was blissed out and messy in the best way possible, still panting and gazing up at Lance in a way that was unmistakingly  _ adoring _ .

 

Lance was enchanted, and he couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his lips; the affection boiling over in his chest needing a physical outlet.  

 

They kissed, languid and affectionate, until Lance’s shoulders started to cramp from bracing himself above Keith (and above the mess they’d made). 

 

“Hang on,” Lance chuckled, “Don’t move.”

 

“Dunno if I can, even if I wanted too,” mumbled Keith, voice pleasantly deep, and drowsily satisfied. 

 

Lance stroked a hand through Keith’s hair, pushing it out of his face to press an affectionate kiss against his forehead as Keith’s eyelids fluttered shut.

 

“Aw, did I wear you out?” teased Lance, feeling unbearably smug. 

 

Keith cracked an eye open, and watched Lance as he stood to cross the room and grab a towel.  

 

“Anything I say is just going to make you insufferable, isn’t it?” Keith remarked, no real heat behind the words.  

 

Lance knelt beside him so he could wipe the mess off his belly. 

 

“Probably,” he replied with a smirk.

 

Once he deemed Keith sufficiently un-stickified, he unceremoniously dropped the soiled towel on the floor beside the bed, and pulled the blankets back over them, wrapping Keith up in his arms. 

 

Keith hugged him back, and it made Lance feel warm. 

 

“Comfortable?” he whispered, stroking a hand through Keith’s hair. Keith hummed a positive response, and it didn’t take long for his breathing to even out, and every muscle in his body to go lax. 

 

Lance carefully grabbed the datapad on the bedside table to check the time, and saw that they still had about a varga until they were meant to be up. He could let Keith rest. He could keep stroking his hair and staring at him as he slept, internally marvelling over how pretty and peaceful he looked like this. How honored he was that Keith was letting him see him like this. 

 

The longer he laid there, the more Lance felt something warm and tender blooming in his chest. Something fragile that he had no idea what to do with, and he found that he couldn’t ignore it or push it away when he was lying in Keith’s bed, cuddling him, and stroking him, and staring at him, like a lovesick fool.

 

When did Keith become so precious to him? 

 

With half a varga left until they had to get up, Lance attempted to extricate himself from Keith. He needed to think about this without Keith’s overwhelming presence fogging up his brain with how nice he felt and how beautiful he looked and how good he smelled.  

 

Keith made a sleepily sound of protest and clung to Lance weakly, and just like that Lance was able to put a name to the overwhelming feeling that was taking over his whole body. 

 

_ Oh no.  _

 

“S’time to get up?” mumbled Keith, wrinkling his nose unhappily. 

 

“No, my love.  _ Sleep _ , I’ll bring you breakfast,” Lance replied softly. 

 

“M’kay,” replied Keith, relaxing and relinquishing his hold.

 

_ Fuck _ . Had he always been this cute? This endearing? This enchanting? 

 

Lance didn’t know. So he blindly threw on some of Keith’s clothes, and hastily exited the room.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update shouldn't be too far off I've just about got it done!! 
> 
> Consider this 3k of smut the calm before the storm.... (or angst rather)
> 
> Thanks Glynna Gold for proof reading!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a mental breakthrough regarding his feelings, but is it in time?

It was pretty early, so there was no one in the kitchen yet. Thank goodness.

 

Lance didn’t know what he would say if they asked him why he was wearing Keith’s red pajama shirt that Keith himself hadn’t even ever worn, along with a pair of Keith’s boxers and Keith’s sweatpants.

 

It might have been smarter to have gone back to his room to change into some clothes of his own, but he was in the middle of a bit of a mental crisis when he told Keith he was going to get him food, and feet had taken him to the kitchen automatically.

 

He rummaged through the cupboards, searching for something better than green food goo, while his thoughts raced.

 

What the hell were he and Keith doing? They’d just had _sex_ , and it had been _amazing._ Was this still a competition? Did Lance want it to be more?

 

“Lance?”

 

Lance yelped and jumped in surprise at being startled, only to find that it was just Hunk at the door, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, still wearing his pajamas.

 

“Mornin’, buddy,” he replied weakly.   

 

“Soooo…” Lance recognised that tone; it was Hunk’s falsely casual, interrogation tone. It made Lance’s heart beat faster, and his palms get sweaty, “You and Keith, huh?”

  
“What about me and Keith?” he said defensively, crouching down to continue rummaging through the cupboards. Hunk had made preserves out of some of the berries and he knew he’d hidden the jar around here somewhere...

  
“Come on dude, you two have been acting differently towards each other for months! I don’t get why you’re keeping it a secret, no one will care that you’re dating-”

  
“No one will care that we’re _what_ now?” squeaked Lance, letting out another yelp when he tried to stand too quickly and banged his head on the shelf in the cupboard.

 

“Dating. You’re dating right?” said Hunk.

  
“Each other?” replied Lance, rubbing his head as he stood.

  
“Well _yeah_ , who else would you be dating?”

  
“Keith and I aren’t dating,” he said quickly, agitation rising in his chest. He wasn’t ready to talk about this with anyone, he wasn’t ready for anyone to know when he himself wasn’t even sure what he felt. (Well, he was sure, he just wasn’t ready to _admit_ it yet).

 

Hunk blinked.

 

“…What?” he exclaimed.

  
“I said-”

  
“I know what you said! I just don’t understand. You guys spend so much time together and you’re always touching each other, not to mention the way he _looks_ at you.”

  
A part of Lance wanted to demand that Hunk explain exactly how Keith looked at him, the lovesick part that wanted to cuddle Keith in bed and pet his hair and tell him he was pretty, but the larger part of him was panicking.

  
“We’re _rivals,_ Hunk,” he insisted. His voice cracked unconvincingly.  

  
“Is that all you are?” asked Hunk skeptically.

  
_No_ , thought Lance. “Yes!” he said aloud, desperate for this vein of conversation to be dropped.

 

“Are you _sure?_ I mean… you’re wearing his clothes,” said Hunk, looking him up and down pointedly. Lance blushed.

 

“We’re friends too,” he allowed, “Friendly rivals.”

 

“Who wear each other’s clothes and sleep in each other’s beds?”

 

“It’s _complicated-_ -”

 

“Look, I didn’t want to bring this up, but I totally walked in on you two making out in the hangar a couple weeks ago and you didn’t notice me so I snuck back out, but since then I’ve been waiting for you guys to announce that you’re together or something,” blurted Hunk very quickly.

 

Lance sighed. Honestly, the most surprising thing about this was that Hunk had managed to restrain himself from confronting Lance about this until now.

  
“We aren’t dating. It’s just a dumb contest, part of our rivalry,” said Lance gruffly.

  
“What, Keith challenged you to kiss him or something?” said Hunk doubtfully. Well, of course it sounded stupid and contrived when he put it like that.

  
“No--”

 

“What exactly are you competing about?” asked Hunk, squinting at him.

 

“The same shit we’re always competing about, you know, dominance, who backs out first, and who’s better and stuff…” except Lance was lying, because it hadn’t been about that for _weeks_ and he knew it. When was the last time he thought about their ‘competition’? He couldn’t remember.

 

“Let me get this straight, you and Keith are playing some sort of weird gay chicken?” said Hunk, shaking Lance out of his thoughts.

  
“Heh, straight,” said Lance; he couldn’t help it.  

  
Hunk gave him a look and Lance let his forced expression drop. Hunk knew him too well to let him hide behind jokes.

 

“To be honest… it started out that way, but now…” Lance bit his lip. He barely allowed himself to _think_ this, let alone saying it out loud to another human.

 

“Now you like him,” finished Hunk.

 

Lance opened his mouth, but no words came out, so he promptly closed it again and blushed deeply. He had no come back for that. The truth of that simple statement struck him in the gut, leaving him mute.

 

“Oh my god, you _do_ , you _like_ like him!” cried Hunk.

 

“No need to rub it in,” muttered Lance, crossing his arms grumpily over his chest.

 

“Heh, you look like Keith when you stand like that. Especially seeing as you’re wearing his clothes,” teased Hunk, making Lance uncross his arms immediately.

 

“Where’s the jam you made out of the pink berries?” demanded Lance, red cheeked and flustered.

 

“What do you need it for? Are you making breakfast in bed for Keith?”

 

Once again, Lance had nothing to say, and his silence was damning.

 

Hunk smiled indulgently, but refrained himself from teasing.

 

“ _That_ cupboard,” he indicated, “behind the jar of fellkoffer.”  

 

Hunk took mercy on him, and chatted about a few upgrades he was thinking of installing in the castle while Lance waiting for space-substitute bread to toast, before putting it on a plate and layering Hunk’s jam over it generously.

 

“Tell Keith I hope he likes the jam,” said Hunk as Lance left.

 

* * *

 

Something about the conversation he’d had with Hunk, had Lance on edge, like he was one step from falling over a precipice. He didn’t know why, but the idea of feeding Keith breakfast and then pulling him into his arms to run his hands over his body, made him feel better.

  
Like he wouldn’t be able to step back from the cliff until he got to put his lips on Keith’s again.  

  
“Oh, you’re up! I brought you break--” Lance trailed off. He’d expected to find a warm, sleepy, _naked_ , Keith, lying down in much the same position as Lance had left him.

Instead, Keith was fully clothed, and sitting up, posture slumped and defeated. His head hung forward and his face was obscured by his long hair.

  
He didn’t look up at Lance or acknowledge him in any way, he just sat, looking impossibly small and sad. A cold lump of unease settled in the pit of Lance’s stomach.

  
“What’s wrong? What happened?”

Lance hastily set the plate of space-toast down on the bedside table and sat on the bed, only for Keith turned his face away from him.

  
Lance hesitantly laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Lance could feel him trembling.  

  
“Keith, seriously, what’s the matter?” Lance’s mind raced and he thought over what they’d done less than an hour previously. Had he hurt Keith? Did Keith regret what they’d done?

  
“I’m fine,” Keith sounded hoarse.  

  
“You don’t sound fine! Why won’t you look at me?”

  
“I just… I just want to be alone.”  

  
Lance gripped Keith’s shoulders to forcefully to turn his body towards him.  

  
He dipped his head so he could make out Keith’s expression and what he saw took him aback.  
Keith’s face was crumpled in misery; tears were streaming down his cheeks. The sight felt like thousands of icy needles piercing Lance’s heart. It hurt him to see Keith like this, it hurt more than getting blown up by Sendak.

  
“I w-want to b-be alone,” Keith tried to sound forceful, but his voice broke and he was still refusing to meet Lance’s eye, ruining the effect.

  
“Well I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong!” retorted Lance. He would do _anything_ to make it better. Keith should never look like this, so small and sad. Not while Lance could do something about it.

  
“Nothing’s wrong. I-I’m just being ridiculous.”

  
Lance reached up a hand to brush away some of the tears and maybe cup his cheek, but Keith flinched away and stood abruptly, leaving Lance feeling strangely bereft.

  
“You win,” he said quietly, arms folded over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together.  
“What?” Lance blinked in confusion at the apparent non-sequitur.

  
“Y-you win Lance! Okay?! You w-win. I heard you and Hunk talking about me, and I give up so you win. You beat me.”

  
Oh shit… Keith had heard them talking.

 

“Did you hear _everything?_ ” Lance asked hoarsely. Keith sniffed, and gave a jerky little shrug.

 

“I heard enough.”

 

Lance was stricken. It must have showed on his face because Keith continued.

  
“Look, I don’t blame you. I-I’m not… not angry. I’ve a-always known I would be alone; I know I’m not- I’m not… right. I should have _known_ it was too good to be true. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so I would appreciate it if you could save your gloating for tomorrow.”

  
“W-what?” Lance was speechless. Keith sighed.

  
“I… I never considered it a-a competition. I d-didn’t think you did e-either a-and I thought you-- I thought m-maybe you… I just…” Keith couldn’t get out whatever he was going to say next, he was too choked up.

  
“Y-you win Lance. You were right, I shouldn't have assumed what you wanted,” he managed to bite out.

  
Keith turned on his heel and left the room too quickly for Lance to do anything. He wasn’t quick enough for Lance not to hear a broken sob that he couldn’t hold back.    

  
He’d never seen Keith cry before…

 

Not when he came to Lance’s room to escape from his nightmares, shaking and trembling, and not when he returned to them, beaten within an inch of his life, with the shocking knowledge that he was part Galra.

 

Lance didn’t feel like he’d won. He felt like he’d pushed himself and Keith over that precipice, and it was a long way down.

 

Keith’s tears had stripped away all his excuses, and willful ignorance, leaving behind a gentle understanding that allowed him to view the past few months in an altogether different light. All the things he’d been refusing to consciously acknowledge were suddenly all he could think about.  

 

Keith tried to comfort him when he was sad, Keith saved him his favorite berries for breakfast, Keith let him kiss and touch him, let him inside his body, came to him when he was feeling vulnerable and scared...

 

Keith didn’t see Lance as a rival at all. Keith saw them as friends. More than a friend even, Keith _liked_ Lance.

Then, remembering how broken Keith had seemed just moments ago, Lance came to a realization so shocking it made him dizzy.

 

Keith was in love with him.

 

It should have been impossible for _Keith_ to ever love _him_ of all people, but Lance felt the truth of it down to his bones. Keith was in love with him, and all this time Lance had been framing their whole relationship as if it were an inalienable fact that Keith would _never_ feel that way.

 

Keith was too cool, too abrasive, to ever have tender feelings for anyone, except Lance knew that wasn’t true; Keith was surprisingly soft and warm once you got past his prickly walls.

 

Soft, and affectionate, and vulnerable. It was laughable that Lance had dug his heels in about admitting his feelings to himself to avoid getting hurt, because seeing _Keith_ hurt was a hundred times worse.

  
Keith was in love with him and Lance was a fucking idiot because he didn’t just _like_ Keith. He was in love with him too, and he’d just ruined everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!! You all knew this was coming though!! I PROMISE I WILL FIX IT (eventually... in like a chapter or 2 lol)
> 
> Did the angsty fall happen like you expected it to? (Ashesofthefirststar your prediction was correct!!)
> 
> Thanks Glynna-Gold for the proof-reading as always :) 
> 
> Happy season 6 watching everybody, I for one can't wait to watch the new season, so consider this chapter an pre-season 6 gift.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout.

Lance realised about thirty seconds after Keith ran away he that he needed to follow him. Now that he was faced with the horrible prospect of losing Keith, it was easy to get over his fears and doubts and acknowledge that he wanted him. He wanted him with every fibre of his being. More than that, he wanted him to be _happy_.

 

The idea of Keith curled up somewhere alone, crying his eyes out because he thought that Lance didn’t love him, because he thought that Lance had been _using_ him, it made Lance feel sick to his stomach. The trust that had been built up between them was such a fragile thing. He’d already had his suspicions about what Keith’s previous relationship had been like; he hated to think that he might have hurt Keith just as badly as that previous nameless, faceless person. He hated the idea that he might have hurt Keith so badly he’d never open up again.

 

He needed to make this right. Keith must have only heard the first part of his and Hunk’s conversation, the part when he was being a reticent idiot trying to downplay what he felt to save face or something.

 

He needed to make this right _now_.

 

He burst out of Keith’s room and ran straight into Shiro.

 

“Woah, there. Lance, what’s the matter?” said Shiro, clamping a hand down on his shoulder, and preventing him from scurrying off.

 

“ _Keith_ , I need to find Keith, and I need to talk to him--”

 

“Hey, hey. Lance, calm down,” said Shiro, eyes kind, brow creased in concern. Concern that Lance didn’t deserve because this was all his fault and he’d _hurt_ Keith.

 

“Did you guys have a fight?” asked Shiro sympathetically. Lance shook his head helplessly.

 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, couples fight. Just give him some time to cool off and you can talk-”

 

“We aren’t together, Shiro,” Lance blurted.

 

Shiro’s face pinched in confusion.

 

“Did you break up?” he asked slowly.

 

Lance shook his head helplessly.

 

“I thought… I’m such an idiot, I don’t even know what I thought.”

 

There was pressure building behind his eyelids, _iching_ for release, but Lance refused to allow himself the catharsis of crying. At least, not until he fixed this. He always felt better after a good cry, and he didn’t _deserve_ to feel better.  

 

“Lance, I know Keith isn’t the most in touch with his feelings, or the best at expressing them, but he _does_ cares about you, _deeply_. The Galra revelation has him scared and--” Shiro cut off at the crumpled expression on Lance’s face.

 

“What is it?” he asked.

 

“It’s ruined. _I_ ruined it, _”_ said Lance. There was a tense beat of silence where Shiro just stared at Lance...

 

“This is my fault,” he breathed, sounding like the weight of the entire universe was dragging him down. Lance squinted in confusion, honestly confused as to how Shiro had come to that conclusion.

 

“No it isn’t, it’s _my_ fault, _you_ don’t even know what happened,” Lance retorted, forgetting himself for a moment.

 

“You’re only teenagers, and _I’m_ the leader. I’ve had training in managing interpersonal relationships on long-haul deep space mission in close quarters. I should’ve sat you all down a long time ago to discuss boundaries and expectations. In fact, I was _going_ to, except…” Shiro sighed again, “I’d never seen Keith so happy,” he admitted.

 

Well… that didn’t twist the knife Lance had stabbed into his own heart _at all_.  

 

“Keith hasn’t had many good things in his life-” Lance’s mind flashed to all Keith’s little quirks, his strange reactions and expectations, and he privately agreed, even though he didn’t know many details, “-I thought he deserved something good for once. We’re fighting in an intergalactic war, I thought you _both_ deserved something good.”

 

That was something they could agree on; Keith was good, and he deserved good things.

 

“I had something good. _We_ were good… I’m just an emotionally stunted idiot where Keith’s concerned. I need to find him so I can apologise and explain-”

 

“You’re better off letting him cool down for bit, Lance,” Shiro recommended.

 

“But-but, he doesn’t need to cool down, he wasn’t _angry_ , I need to tell him _now_.”

 

“He wasn’t angry?” Shiro sounded surprised.

 

“No. He was…” just remembering that broken expression, and way he’d flinched away from Lance’s touch, was like rubbing salt into a wound, “he was sad. He was _so_ sad Shiro, I made him _cry_.”

 

“What did you do?” asked Shiro. From anyone else the words would have sounded angry and accusing, but Shiro only sounded concerned.

 

“Nothing,” said Lance honestly, “he overheard me and Hunk talking. He-he heard me telling Hunk that-that-” the lump in Lance’s throat was getting huge, all he could see behind his eyelids was Keith’s tear-streaked, heart-broken, face, “I just panicked, you know? Yesterday we-- I mean, Hunk asked me about what-what we were doing because I was wearing his clothes,” Lance cut off abruptly, struggling to hold back his tears.

 

“You’re _still_ wearing his clothes,” prompted Shiro gently.

 

“R-right,” breathed Lance shakily, “I just… I _just_ ... I didn’t think he liked me. You know, _like_ liked me. Didn’t think he could, or ever would.”

 

“ _Really?_ ” said Shiro incredulously, eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.  

 

“He’s _Keith!_ ” Lance exclaimed, like that explained everything.

 

“What do you mean?” asked Shiro. Lance made a frustrated sound, running a hand agitatedly through his hair.

 

“He’s _Keith_ , best pilot of his generation, protege of _the_ Takashi Shirogane, so hot he somehow makes that dumb mullet look sexy, and so aloof and-and _cold_ that he couldn’t possibly have feelings, least of all for _me_.”

 

“Do you really think that?” asked Shiro. Lance sighed.

 

“No… not anymore,” he said quietly.

 

“What did he hear you saying to Hunk?” asked Shiro.

 

“I-I was saying that we’re only rivals, that-that everything was j-just a competition.”  

 

At Lance’s words, Shiro looked troubled, and he let out a tremulous sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“What did you do, Lance?” he said rhetorically. He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed in a way that cut Lance down to the quick.

 

“I know I messed up! That’s why I need to find him and _fix_ this-”

 

“Lance-” interrupted Shiro, “I don’t know if you can,” he said, the words as brutal as they were honest.

 

“W-what do you mean?” asked Lance. This had to be what heartbreak felt like; a tightness in his chest so constricting he felt like he was being crushed beneath a mountain. Shiro sighed.

 

“Look, what has Keith told you about his past?” he asked.

 

“Nothing really, but… I got the feeling that there might be some asshole ex-boyfriend who didn’t treat him right, judging by the way he reacted to things sometimes,” Lance admitted guiltily. He wished he’d tried to get Keith to open up and talk to him. He _knew_ there was something up, and he never even really _asked_ about it. He should have.

 

“It wasn’t a boyfriend,” said Shiro, an uncharacteristically hard expression coming over his face, like he was thinking about something that made him angry. It was enough to make Lance shiver; such a cold expression didn’t belong on Shiro’s handsome face.

 

“Then what… what happened?” Lance asked hesitantly.

 

“If Keith hasn’t shared that, it isn’t my place to tell you,” said Shiro, “but… this isn’t the first time he’s thought a relationship meant something different than what the other person thought... I don’t know if you could have picked something that would hurt him more if you tried.”

 

That was exactly the opposite of what Lance wanted to hear, and also the last straw; tears spilled down his cheeks, thick and fast. .

 

“What can I do to fix it?” asked Lance brokenly, “I can fix it, right?”

 

“Oh, Lance… only _Keith_ can answer that,” said Shiro sympathetically. He sighed.

 

“Come here,” he said, pulling Lance into a hug. Lance couldn’t help but compare this with hugging Keith. Not that Shiro was unpleasant to hug, on the contrary; those arms were _made_ for holding. It was just... Keith was that tiny bit shorter than him, and he fit against the edges of Lance’s body so perfectly.

 

“You want a real relationship, right?” murmured Shiro.

 

“I’m-I’m not even fussed a-about whether he wants to be t-together,” said Lance, sniffing, “I just don’t want him to be s-sad. I-I think I _love_ him, Shiro. I just don’t want him to be hurt.”

 

Shiro pulled back, but left a hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.

 

“It sounds like your main problem was _communication_ , or rather, lack thereof. You two need to talk, _honestly_. You both have to keep in mind that at the end of the day we still need to be able to form Voltron. Can I trust you to straighten this out with Keith yourself?” asked Shiro seriously.

 

“Heh, _straighten_ ,” said Lance. Even with his voice wobbly, and tears leaking out of his eyes faster than he could wipe them away, he couldn’t resist.

 

Shiro gave him a deadpan look.

 

“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than to make this right, and nothing I want less than to hurt Keith more,” Lance said seriously.  

 

“You’re a good guy, Lance. Your heart wasn’t in the wrong place, I think,” said Shiro sympathetically.  

 

Lance just sighed.

 

“I need to find him. I need to _explain-_ ”

 

“It’ll have to wait,” said Shiro, “if Keith doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. He’s like a skittish cat, you gotta let him come to you,” it sounded like Shiro was speaking from experience.

 

“If I wait for that we’ll never talk again!” cried Lance.

 

“You will. We live in this castle together, you still need to fight together, and form Voltron together; you’ll come face to face eventually. It’ll be alright, okay?”

 

“Okay,” agreed Lance, wiping his undeserved tears off his cheeks. Keith couldn’t avoid him forever, Lance would catch him eventually. It was probably better this way actually, some time for Lance to think about what he was going to say. Some time to reflect on the way he’d behaved…

 

“Oh, and Lance?” said Shiro.

 

“Yeah?” replied Lance.

 

“If you ever hurt him again like this, I won’t be this nice or understanding,” the way Shiro said the words was perfectly pleasant, but the look in eyes was as sharp as the edge of Keith's knife, and the hand on Lance’s shoulder - the _Galra_ one - tightened its grip subtly. It made the hair on the back on Lance’s neck stand on end, and a cold shiver worked its way through his body.

 

“R-right,” said Lance weakly.

“C’mon, we have plans to make with the Blade of Marmora,” said Shiro, dropping his hand from Lance’s shoulder, and indicating for Lance to follow him up to the bridge.

 

Lance followed him, privately thinking that whatever treatment Shiro decided to met out to him if he hurt Keith again would pale in comparison to the castigation he would heap upon himself.

 

* * *

 

“Where is the Red Paladin?” was the first thing Kolivan asked when Shiro and Lance arrived. Everyone else was already there…

 

“Still recovering from the trials,” said Shiro smoothly, while Lance shifted his weight uncomfortably, averting his eyes from everyone.

 

Kolivan somehow managed to look even more displeased, which was a feat seeing as his default face _was_ displeased.

 

“He got out of the cryopod yesterday, he should be well recovered by now,” said Allura, looking utterly unimpressed.

 

“Leave it, Allura,” said Shiro firmly. Allura frowned, but did as he asked, and they all got to work.  

 

Lance was fidgety and distracted for the duration of their morning planning session. He felt Keith’s absence acutely, and more than once caught himself staring at the doors, _willing_ Keith to walk through them.

 

Lunchtime rolled around, and still Keith didn’t show.

 

“Is Keith still not feeling well?” asked Hunk in concern.

 

“Um…” Lance stuttered, floundering for words.

 

“Should we take him something to eat?” asked Pidge.

 

“ _Um_ …”

 

“Let’s just let him rest,” interjected Shiro.

 

Frowning deeply, Allura stalked out of the room…

 

* * *

 

* * *

  

* * *

 

 

Keith fled, running aimlessly until his lungs ached, and the air around him was stale. He was in an unoccupied part of the castle, a part that no one had set foot in for ten thousand years.

 

Good, no one would find him falling apart here.

 

He collapsed into a heap in front of a large round porthole, giving him an excellent view of the binary black holes and the giant blue star near the Blade of Marmora base if he cared to look. He didn’t; Keith put his back to it on purpose, and curled his legs up to his chest, hugging them tightly. He pressed his face against his knees and willed his eyes to stop leaking.   

 

He felt like such an idiot. A heartbroken idiot, and it was all his own damn fault for getting his hopes up. He couldn’t believe he thought he made Lance as happy as Lance made him. He couldn’t believe he thought that maybe someone could love him. He should have known better.

 

A competition. The whole time it was a fucking _competition._ He knew he had trouble understanding the nuances and undercurrents of the things people said and did sometimes, but never before had he been so completely off the mark.

 

...Or had he? He’d been so wrong about Lance, could he really trust his own perception of the state of his relationships with the others? If he got _that_ so wrong, what else was he misunderstanding?

 

Hunk was so friendly… would Keith even know if Hunk didn’t really like him very much? Was Hunk laughing with Lance behind his back about him ‘losing’ the competition? Before he overheard the truth, he would have thought they were friends, but now he was painfully unsure.

 

He _yelled_ at Pidge on the third day he met her, called her selfish for wanting to find her family, and he’d _apologized_ for that, but he still thought about it sometimes and regretted how harsh he’d been. He thought she’d forgiven him, he felt like they got along now… was she only putting up with him because they were stuck together and needed to form Voltron?

 

On top of that, he was _Galra_ now. Well, apparently he’d always been Galra, but now everyone _knew_. Was that why he never fit in? Was that the reason why no one had ever wanted to keep him? Was that why he found it so difficult to manage his emotions, and was forever being labeled as ‘angry’ and ‘hot-headed’ and ‘problem child’?

 

The Galra were the reason Pidge’s family had been torn apart, and Keith was one of them.

 

Oh god, they’d held Shiro captive for a whole _year_ , they’d taken his arm, his memories, they’d made him fight like a dog in a ring. Shiro had insisted that Keith hadn’t done anything wrong, in fact _Shiro_ had been the one to catch him when he fell from the cryopod, shaky as a newborn foal, but what if that was just Shiro being his unfailingly kind, level-headed, self? He didn’t deserve it. Shiro had always been too good to him, and Keith _didn’t deserve it._

 

And what about Allura and Coran? The Galra had destroyed their whole home planet, killed all their friends and family, and here Keith was living in their castle, and eating their food. Taking up space he didn’t deserve, like usual. Nevermind that the castle felt like more of a home than any other place Keith had ever lived, Allura and Coran didn’t deserve to have to share living space with a member of the race that caused them so much pain.  

 

Maybe Hunter had been right about him all along… he just wasn’t lovable. He _was_ useful however; they needed him to fight, to _pilot_ , two things he excelled at. Hopefully that’d be enough to secure his place here.  

 

Keith wasn’t sure how long he sat there; long enough for the floor to feel stiff and uncomfortable, long enough for his hands to feel like ice, and long enough for his ass to fall asleep.

 

Long enough for his sobs to quieten and his tears to run dry.  

 

His solitude was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps.

 

He didn’t realise that he’d been hoping for Shiro until the Princess stepped into view.

 

“A-Allura,” he stuttered, scrambling to his feet.

 

She surveyed him imperiously for a moment, expression flinty.

 

“You will address me as _Princess_ Allura,” she said stiffly.

 

“Princess Allura, s-sorry,” muttered Keith, looking down at his feet; he couldn’t meet her eye. He’d caught a glimpse of a new _coldness_ there, and even though he expected it, it still hurt.

 

“This area of the castle is in stasis. Why are you here?” she asked, voice dripping with suspicion.

 

Keith could only shrug.

 

“Report to the bridge immediately. Your absence is holding up progress on our plan to defeat Zarkon.”

 

A wave of guilt crashed over Keith. What did it matter that Lance broke his heart, and the people he was on the cusp of calling family tolerated him at best, and hated him at worst? There was one thing he was here for: piloting the Red Lion and helping to defeat the Galra. Wallowing in self-pity was incredibly selfish of him, and he needed to get his head on straight. This was _war_ , his feelings didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He had to make sure he did his part.

 

His dad had saved people for a living, something Keith had always looked up to him for. Something Keith was proud of, even if it _had_ ultimately resulted in him forfeiting his own life and leaving Keith all alone...

 

Keith wanted to save and protect people too.

 

“Sorry,” his voice broke on the word, and he cleared his throat to try and steady it, “I’ll go now.”

 

He stood and quickly walked past Allura, making sure to stick to the wall as close as possible to stay away from her; he could respect that she didn’t want to be close to him. He barely took five steps when she called to him, “Wait, Keith.”

 

He turned back to find that the cold look on her face had melted a tiny bit.

 

“Are you... alright?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“I’m fine,” he said, willing the words to be true. Allura didn’t look very convinced, but she didn’t challenge him when he continued on his way.

 

He went back to his room to change into his Paladin armor, (he hadn’t even bothered putting on _shoes_ when he’d fled from Lance), before forcing himself to walk up to the control room.

 

He paused before the doors and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could do what he was here to do. He could act like everything was fine. Everything _was_ fine. Countless enslaved peoples were counting on him to be strong, and do his job.

 

He opened the door.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you alright, Lance?”

 

Lance was jerked out of his spiraling thoughts of what he could possibly say to Keith to fix things.

 

“Huh? Sorry, what was that?”

 

“Hunk asked if you were okay,” said Pidge, “ _are_ you? You’ve been acting weird all morning…”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” replied Lance weakly.

 

“Where is Princess Allura? There isn’t much time left until the next solar flare event, we need to finalise our plans,” said Kolivan.

 

As if speaking her name summoned her, Allura appeared and took her place at the head of the room.

 

“Where were we?” said Coran briskly.

 

The doors swished open again before anyone could answer him, and Keith entered. The sight of him pierced Lance’s heart, made him want to grab Keith and just _hold_ him tightly. Everything about him _screamed_ vulnerability that he was desperately trying to cover up, from his red-rimmed eyes that were resolutely trained on the floor in front of him, to the way his shoulders were hunched in on himself. Keith looked so small, so sad… And _Lance_ had done that. Lance had done that, and it was killing him.     

 

“Keith,” Lance breathed.

 

Keith flinched, he actually physically _flinched_ as if by speaking his name Lance had struck him. He silently took a place in the room far far away from Lance and the other Paladins, closer to their Galra guests. Having Keith in the room, but not standing in his usual spot, really drove home the strangeness of the empty spot by Lance’s side. Keith usually stood between him and Shiro…

 

“Glad to have you back, Keith,” said Shiro softly, while Pidge whispered loudly to Hunk behind her hand, “ _did I miss something? I thought they were getting along?_ ”

 

Keith only acknowledged Shiro’s words with a kurt little nod, before fixing his eyes adamantly on the holo-screens.

 

Lance was about to bound across and room and drag Keith out to speak with him because he couldn’t _take_ that hurt look on his face, but Shiro quelled that impulse with a nudge and a pointed look. Shiro was right, Keith wouldn’t appreciate Lance making a scene, he’d have to catch him afterwards.

 

“You were telling us about a location where scaultrite could potentially be harvested from?” Kolivan prompted Coran.

 

“Er, yes! That’s right-”   

 

Through the entirety of their meeting Keith didn’t look up at Lance even though Lance was desperate to catch his eye. He didn’t look up at _anyone._

 

When Kolivan and his contingent of Blades made to leave the castle ship, signaling the end of their planning session, Keith disappeared before Lance could pull him aside.   

 

He’d have to try again tomorrow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I chucked in some Keith POV for the first time, what'd you think?
> 
> Let's all cry together in the comments ;-;
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks Glynna Gold for proofreading, and damnspider for feeding the angst.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance owns up with Hunk and Pidge, and there's a little light at the end.

The next day Lance tried in vain to get Keith alone so they could talk, but it turned out that Keith was excellent at avoidance, and conditions were perfect for him to slip away if Lance so much as  _ blinked  _ at him on account of how busy they all were with planning missions with the Blade of Marmora. Plus, every time Keith caught Lance looking at him, or starting to head towards him, his composure would fracture, and he’d get this wounded, hounded look in his eye, and Lance couldn’t help but let him slip away. He didn’t want to cause him any more distress, but he had to talk to him… 

 

After a depressingly unsuccessful morning, Lance found himself being ambushed by Hunk and Pidge when he slipped away to use the bathroom.

 

“Okay, what’s going on,” said Pidge. 

 

“What makes you think something’s going on?” asked Lance nervously. 

 

Hunk and Pidge gave him identical flat looks. 

 

“You look like you’ve been crying,” said Pidge bluntly.

 

“ _ Keith  _ looked like he’d been crying yesterday,” added Hunk. 

 

“It doesn’t take a genius - which I  _ am - _ to link those two anomalous events,” said Pidge. 

 

Lance sighed.

 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, guys.” If they made him talk about it, he’d probably cry, and he’d done enough of that last night when he was trying to fall asleep. 

 

“I was right wasn’t I, you  _ were _ dating,” said Hunk.  

 

“Is that why they’ve been getting along so well, and spending all their time together lately?” asked Pidge.

 

“Yeah, except now they’ve broken up, which it why they both looked like kicked puppies-”

 

“Guys, I’m right here!” Lance protested loudly. 

 

“Then tell us what happened,” said Pidge. Lance sighed. 

 

“... Keith overheard us talking yesterday, Hunk.”

 

“Right, _ and? _ ” asked Hunk, clearly expectation further elaboration.

 

“ _ And  _ what he heard upset him,” said Lance, voice tight.   
  


“Which part upset him?” asked Hunk

 

“Wait, wait, wait, what were you talking about?” interrupted Pidge.

 

“Well, Lance was in the kitchen wearing Keith’s clothes, making him breakfast,” said Hunk. 

 

Pidge looked at Lance with a raised eyebrow.

 

“ _ Oh? _ ”

 

Lance blushed down to his roots, and Pidge’s eyebrow raised even higher.

 

“...Do I wanna know why you were wearing his clothes?”

 

“ _ Definitely _ not,” Lance replied quickly, and Pidge’s nose wrinkled in distaste. 

 

“ _ Anyway _ , I asked Lance if they were dating,” continued Hunk.

 

“What did you say?” asked Pidge, looking at Lance expectantly. 

 

“I said…” the shame welling up in him was so thick it impeded Lance’s ability to speak for a moment. His posture slumped, and he hung his head.

 

“I said we weren’t. That… that everything we’d been doing was just... just a competition. I said we were just rivals.”

 

Keith’s wounded expression flashed behind Lance’s eyelids. How could he have been so callous? 

 

“You also said you were friends,” said Hunk, far more kindly than Lance deserved. 

 

“Friendly-rivals,” said Lance with a bitter laugh. 

 

“You also said you  _ liked _ him after that,” continued Hunk. “Like,  _ like  _ like,” he added just in case Pidge didn’t get it, nudging her and giving her a meaningful look. 

 

“I did… but I don’t think he heard that part. Or, if he did, it wasn’t enough to-to-”

 

“To temper? To assuage?” offered Pidge.

 

“To  _ make up _ for--for what I said. Before that.”

 

“That’s what temper and assuage  _ mean _ , Lance,” said Pidge.

 

“You’re missing the  _ point, _ Pidge,” Lance retorted, getting frustrated.  

 

“Now, now, guys,” said Hunk, ever the diplomat. “The way I see it, you can come back from this,” he said.

 

Pidge looked thoughtful. 

 

“I think it depends. How angry was Keith when he confronted you about it?” she asked. 

 

“He wasn’t angry, and he didn’t confront me,” said Lance. He was getting sort of sick of everyone always assuming that Keith was angry, or that he would get angry. Keith wasn’t actually very angry at all. Not without reason to be, and he had  _ a lot  _ of reason to be angry at Lance...

 

“Then how do you know he overhead us?” asked Hunk. 

 

“...After that conversation, I went back to his room-”

 

“-To take him breakfast?” injected Hunk.

 

“ _ Yes, _ Hunk.  _ To take him breakfast _ . And he was just sitting there…”

 

“Sitting there  _ what? _ ” injected Hunk, again.

 

“He was… really upset. He was  _ crying _ .” 

 

“You made Keith  _ cry?! _ ” 

 

“Stop interrupting him, Hunk!” snapped Pidge, flapping a hand a Hunk to shush him. “What happened next?” she asked.

 

“I didn’t know why he was crying, so I asked him what was wrong and he said… he said--”

 

“Spit it out Lance!” cried Pidge. 

 

“... he said I won. He said ‘you win, Lance.’”

 

Before all of this, back when he didn’t know how soft, and vulnerable, and earnest Keith could be, having Keith tell him he won at _ anything  _ would have made him insufferably smug. One-upping ace-pilot Keith Kogane, and having him _ tell _ Lance that he’d done it, the Lance that had left Earth would have crowed about it for  _ weeks _ . 

 

_ Current _ Lance knew Keith’s smiles, and all the ways that Keith liked to be touched, and he wanted to shrivel up in shame for hurting him so badly. 

 

“And what did you say?” asked Hunk.

 

“I-I didn’t get a  _ chance _ to say anything else because he ran out of the room in tears.”

 

Hunk and Pidge looked at each other.

 

“Well, I think it’s obvious what needs to happen to fix this,” said Hunk, while Pidge nodded in agreement. 

 

“You need to cook him an apology dinner,” said Hunk at the same time that Pidge said, “You need to let us lock you in a closet together.” 

 

They looked at each other in surprise. 

 

“What’s Lance going to make an apology dinner out of?  _ Food goo?”  _ said Pidge. 

 

“I’m sure we could find alien ingredients that he could prepare deliciously,” defended Hunk.

 

“You mean  _ you _ could prepare deliciously, you forget that Lance can’t cook--”

 

“Hey! I can cook just fine!” protested Lance, but they ignored him. 

 

“Besides, how will locking them in a closet fix things?”   __

 

“Once we lock them in there, it’s up to Lance to give Keith a bonding moment he’ll actually  _ remember _ this time round. Plus, we won’t let them out until they make up--”

 

“We’re not doing  _ either _ of those things,” interrupted Lance, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

“Look, I appreciate you guys trying to help, but this is something I broke, so I have to fix it myself.”

 

“What if you can’t fix it yourself?” asked Hunk.

 

“Then I’ll have to live with it,” said Lance with grim determination.  

 

“This is so  _ dumb _ ,” groaned Pidge, “if you both like each other, there’s no reason for you to both mope and pine like this. You can just be together and happy, and it’ll be  _ gross _ , but the rest of us can deal with having to witness it because I’m sure it’s gotta be better than the gloomy angst thing you two currently have going on.”

 

“I’m with Pidge on this one, today has been the most awkward thing ever,” said Hunk. 

 

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve been trying to get him alone so I can speak with him  _ all day, _ ” snapped Lance.

 

The three of them fell into a heavy silence. 

 

“Don’t worry about it guys, I’ll fix things,” said Lance. “He can’t avoid me forever, we’re stuck on the castle-ship together. We’ll have to hash things out eventually, if not for ourselves, then for Voltron.” The words were true, but they didn’t make Lance feel any better. 

 

“Are you _ sure _ you don't want me to lock you in a closet together? I could easily orchestrate the whole thing,” said Pidge. Lance didn’t doubt that she could, and that was frankly worrying.

 

“Or I could help you cook that apology meal,” added Hunk. 

 

Lance teared up a little, his friends were the _ best.  _ He shook his head.

 

“Thank you, guys, but no.”

 

Lance thought about Shiro’s words. Keith was like a skittish cat…

 

“I think I need to be patient and let him come to me.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Over the next few days, Lance didn’t try to approach Keith again. It hurt him how Keith seemed to rest easy when he realised that he needn’t be on guard because Lance wasn’t trying to get him alone anymore… But it was for the best if that was what Keith was comfortable with. 

 

For now. 

 

At least Lance had mission prep he could throw himself into to distract himself.

 

All too soon it was time for them to leave on their respective missions. 

 

“Do you want me to try and talk to him for you?” asked Hunk surreptitiously, while the pair of them watched Shiro and Keith exchange goodbyes.

 

Lance had no right to be jealous of the half bro-hug thing Shiro and Keith had going on, but he was anyway. Keith should have been in _ his _ arms. Keith had been happy in his arms… and then he had to go and fuck it up. 

 

Shiro caught sight of him, probably staring like a lovesick idiot, and leaned in to murmur something to Keith that had him turning around to look back at Lance. With a jolt, Lance looked away.

 

“S’okay, Hunk. You guys gotta focus on finding the scalantrite--"

 

"That's not it."

 

"Scalontrite?"

 

"Nope."

 

"... Scaultron?"

 

"Uh-uh."

"Well, _whatever_ it's called, you guys gotta focus on finding it, and I’ll try to talk to him when we all get back-” 

 

“Uhh, buddy…” Hunk pointed back over Lance’s shoulder, and Lance turned back to see Shiro heading towards him with purpose, Keith in tow with a reluctant look on his face.

 

“All the best on your mission, Hunk,” said Shiro, sidestepping Lance to offer Hunk a hand.

 

 

That left Keith to come to stand in front of Lance. Lance froze, afraid that if he moved too suddenly or spoke too quickly, he’d shatter the moment, and Keith would scurry away from him again. 

 

“Good luck,” said Keith gruffly, staring resolutely at a point between Lance’s ear and shoulder. 

 

Lance’s eyes welled up with emotion. 

 

“Good luck,” he choked out, and then he couldn’t help himself. He threw his arms around Keith’s neck and pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder.

 

Keith was wearing his armor, but even under all those protective layers, Lance could feel how stiffly he was holding himself. 

 

Lance held on,  _ desperately  _ hoping for Keith to hug him back, waiting long enough for things to feel even more awkward. 

 

Just when he was ready to give up, he felt something against his side. Keith’s hand, so light and gentle. Just skimming his side. 

 

Lance finally pulled back, sniffing as he tried to stop himself from blubbering all over Keith and making a scene. 

 

Everyone else had tactfully retreated to the other side of the hangar to give them a modicum of privacy. 

 

Over Keith’s shoulder, Lance saw Pidge flashing him a thumbs up, but then Shiro gave her a look, and she turned around to pretend she was ignoring them. She did as poor a job as Hunk was doing; with their surreptitious looks, and avid expressions of interest, they were both clearly eavesdropping. 

 

Putting everyone else out of his mind, Lance held Keith at arm's length by the shoulders, looking him in the eye. Keith’s pretty eyes looked so tired, so _ wary _ . Lance wanted to fix it so badly.

 

_ I know I don’t deserve it, but let me love you…  _

 

“Can we talk? After the mission?” he asked.

 

Keith bit his lip, expression all frowny and drawn.  

 

“It’s fine, Lance. Whatever you think you need to say, you  _ don’t-- _ ”

 

“Please?” his voice hitched pathetically on the word. Lance would get down on his knees and  _ beg _ if he had to. 

 

Keith sighed, finally looking Lance in the eye. There was a tense beat of silence as they studied each other.

 

“...Alright.”  

 

Those two syllables, spoken so low and rough, gave Lance all the hope in the world.

 

He couldn’t help himself, he let his hands run down the length of Keith’s arms, before taking both of his hands and giving them a squeeze.  

 

Keith just gazed at him, eyes wide and bewildered. Lance let his hands drop back to his sides, his fingers twitching as he fought back the urge to caress Keith’s precious face. How had he taken this for granted before? Thinking back, Keith had _ really _ let him in.

 

If Keith let him back in again, Lance would cherish him properly. The way he should have to start with.   

 

“Stay safe, samurai,” he said with feeling.

 

“Stay safe, sharpshooter,” replied Keith softly.

 

With that, everyone boarded their respective lions for the mission - Keith and Hunk in Yellow, Lance, Pidge and Shiro in Green - and then they left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for proofreading Glynna Gold.
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long, I couldn't decide what I wanted to happen!
> 
> I hope you guys like it!! Please let me know what you think :)
> 
> I've been really slack with answering comments lately, so I'm gonna try to get onto that later today! Please know that I treasure all of them, and that they make me smile so hard my face hurts sometime :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The missions go poorly.

**Keith**

  


That farewell hug played on a loop in Keith’s head. What did it mean?

He knew he was stupid for getting his hopes up, for allowing a traitorous flicker of warmth to ignite in his chest, but he couldn’t help it. Lance was so handsome and he’d looked so earnest. Keith had wanted so badly to melt into his embrace, even though his every instinct _screamed_ at him that he was setting himself up to be hurt again.   

“Soooo,” said Hunk, loud and awkward in the relatively cramped space of the Yellow Lion.

Keith’s silent ruminations screeched to an abrupt halt as he tensed up, suddenly remembering that he was incredibly nervous about this mission. Not because of what they had to do—risking his life didn’t really phase him much anymore, and their objective seemed pretty simple—he was nervous because he was going to be alone. With _Hunk_.

He’d been purposefully avoiding being alone with anyone except Shiro. All the assumptions he’d made about Lance, about what was, or rather, _wasn’t_ between them—it _hurt_ him. Going through that again with Pidge, with Hunk, with Coran; he couldn’t _bear_ it. Avoiding having his worst fears confirmed felt safer than risking devastation, but now he was in Hunk’s Lion. He was cornered.  

Despite Hunk’s sunny disposition and friendly demeanor, Keith couldn’t help but be perpetually aware that Hunk could crush him if he wanted to. If he got a hold of Keith, he’d overpower him easily, and Keith couldn’t fathom Hunk trying to hurt him unless he deserved it. Keith wasn’t sure that he _didn’t_ deserve it, insecure as he was about where he stood with everyone.

It was better to keep his distance.

“You and Lance, huh?” said Hunk.

Keith felt his face fracture in dismay.

 _‘Sooo... You and Keith, huh?’_ He’d heard Hunk say those exact same words to Lance. Heard Lance tell Hunk unequivocally that everything they’d been doing was some bizarre extension of their rivalry. A rivalry that Keith had never consented to being a part of, and had never really understood.

He’d thought that all the antagonism had melted away when Lance had first kissed him. When Lance had made him melt like cotton candy with his mouth, so _easily._

_It’s just a dumb contest, part of our rivalry._

“What about me and Lance?” Keith snapped, voice cracking.

“Uhh…” Hunk shifted his weight nervously. “Well, things have been a little, um, _tense_ between the two of you over the last few days,” said Hunk carefully. “But I saw you hugged before we left! That’s good, right?”

Keith couldn’t quite share Hunk’s optimism or enthusiasm.

“Probably not.” The hug had changed nothing, Keith was just weak. Weak for Lance.

It’d probably be easier to get over if Lance went back to the way he was before; if Lance just erased all traces of the boy Keith had thought he’d loved, and stopped looking at Keith like he was sorry for what happened. He didn’t have anything he needed to be sorry for anyway, it was Keith’s fault for misinterpreting. He got his hopes up all on his own. Pretty boys with kind words would never be for him, and he should have known.  

“I know he hurt you, but he really didn’t mean to—”

“Hunk,” Keith interrupted, voice tight, “I know you’re his friend, but _don’t_. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well, _yeah_ , I’m Lance’s friend and I want him to be happy, but I don’t like seeing _you_ down either. I’m _your_ friend too, Keith.”

“You are?” asked Keith, skeptical and genuinely surprised.

Hunk whipped around to stare at him, and his face did something complicated. “What do you _mean_ —” Hunk spluttered. “Of _course_ we’re—! Why would you think—? You don’t—you don’t consider us _friends?_ ”  

“Look, Hunk, I don’t know!” Keith snapped, “I didn’t consider Lance and I rivals either, but apparently that’s what we are— _were._ Heck, I considered myself _human,_ and that turned out to be completely wrong too, so _excuse me_ for not wanting to assume!”

The look Hunk shot him over his shoulder was pained.

“You’re still human, Keith. You’re just… Galra too,” he replied weakly.

“Not human enough for Allura,” Keith muttered.

“I know things between the two of you have been _strained_ —”

 _“Strained?_ ” he echoed, thinking of the way she could hardly stand the sight of him. ‘Strained’ was putting it a little lightly. “She _hates_ me.”

“Allura doesn’t hate you,” Hunk was quick to respond.

Keith scoffed openly. He had _plenty_ of experience with people hating his existence, and he highly doubted that Hunk had ever been hated by anything in his life. Hunk would have to forgive him for taking that platitude with a giant grain of salt.

“I think she’s just scared,” said Hunk. “I mean, the Galra really hurt her; they destroyed her entire planet and all her people. She just needs time to internalize that you won’t hurt her like the other Galra did, like _Zarkon_ did.”

Keith wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea that Allura hated him, or that she was afraid of him. He couldn’t even hold it against her because he felt both those things about himself too.

“She’s gonna come around,” said Hunk softly.

Keith didn’t want to hear it.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” he blurted, desperately trying to backtrack. “We should just focus on the mission. _Look_.” He pointed towards the windscreen as the debris of dead planets parted to reveal a truly monstrous creature.

“Keith—”

“Please, Hunk. Just… leave it, okay?”

Hunk sighed.

“For the record, it _does_ matter, and I _want_ to talk about it—”

“ _Hunk_.”

“Fine, fine… so… any ideas on how to get in?”

“... Blow a hole in it?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The mission went downhill from there.

First they got separated, and then Keith saved a trapped Galra soldier, only for them to turn around and double cross them once they had the scaultrite in their grasp.

Hunk got hurt in the process, twisting his leg and snapping something in his knee.

After finally managing to extract themselves from the situation, the flight back was tense, with Hunk pale-faced and shaking, knuckles white around the controls.

“Oh god, oh god, it hurts, Keith. I-it hurts a _lot,_ ” Hunk whimpered.

“You’re gonna be fine, they’ll put you in a pod and it’ll be okay,” Keith replied, feeling useless and uncomfortable for the whole journey back to the castle.

Coran and Allura were there to meet them when they returned, Hunk tearful and leaning heavily on Keith. The suspicious look Allura leveled at him when they emerged _stung_ like lemon juice in a paper cut.

Coran clicked his tongue sympathetically, coming forward to slot himself under Hunk’s opposite shoulder.

“Oh no, what have you done?” he admonished gently.

“H-hurt my knee,” Hunk whimpered.  

“Let’s get you fixed up.”

Keith gently disentangled himself so Coran could lead Hunk away.

He could feel Allura glaring at him, so he stared at the floor, cringing and waiting.

“Are you hurt?” Allura asked, almost aggressively.

Keith shook his head.

“Are you _certain?”_

“Yes, Princess.”

There was an awkward beat of silence.

“Unload the scaultrite,” Allura ordered, and then Keith heard the soft click of her heels against the floor as she marched away.

He deflated with a sigh, before getting to work.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

  
  
**Lance**

  


“Are you Slav?”

“Yup.”

Huh… well that was easier than Lance thought it’d be.  

“I’ve got Slav,” he said into the comms, right as Shiro said precisely the same words.

“What? I said _I_ have Slav—”

“No, _I_ have Slav—”

“Wait, hold on.” Lance turned and leveled a very serious look at the sole occupant of the cell. “Are you Slav?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yup.”

Well… _his_ Slav seemed pretty certain.

“We don’t have time for this. You’re just gonna have to bring both of them back,” said Pidge, before worryingly falling silent and failing to answer their requests for directions back.

“I guess we’re on our own,” said Shiro.

“Do you know the way back, Slav?” Lance asked.

“Yup.”

“What am I talking about, of _course_ you do, you’re a genius!” And with that, they set off.

Slav led them out a different way than Lance remembered coming in, but since he walked with confidence and he _was_ a genius, Lance trusted, and followed without complaint.  

“Would you like to know more about us?” offered Lance politely a few corridors of quiet later. He’d always been the type of person discomfited by silence when he wasn’t alone.

“Yup.”

“I guess you know what Voltron is, so you don’t need me to explain that—so just the team?” he suggested.

“Yup.”

“Okay. So, Pidge is the hacker of our group.”

“Yup.”

“Shiro’s our awesome leader. Patience of a saint, but… I think he tends to carry the world on his shoulders too much.”

“Yup.”

“Hunk’s our mechanic. He’s also a chef and just a pretty cool guy to hang out with. He’s my best friend.”

“Yup.”

“And Keith…” Lance trailed off. What could he say about Keith?

“I’ve never met anyone like him before,” Lance admitted, barely above a whisper. “Never met anyone who makes me feel the way he does…” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“Hey, Slav?” He asked after a while.

“Yup.”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Yup.”

“Have you ever hurt someone you love? I was… I was careless with someone’s feelings and I accidentally hurt them. Badly. I probably don’t deserve a second chance—”

“Yup.”

“I _know_ , no need to rub it in,” Lance retorted. “I just… I _really_ want to make things right, but I don’t know how, or if I can.”

“Yup.”

“I mean, Keith and I are on team Voltron together, so I know we’ll _have_ to work together eventually, but I don’t want him to have to put up with me for the sake of universe. I mean, if we were on Earth, he could cut me out and never speak to me ever again if he wanted to…”

“Yup.”

“But that isn’t a realistic option when we’re the only five humans in freaking _space!_ Not that that’s what I _want_ him to do, obviously! Just… you should be allowed that option if someone hurts you.”

“Yup.”

How could he know if he’d _really_ made things right, and how could he know if Keith had _really_ forgiven him, when Keith was essentially trapped with him?

“We were… things were _really_ good between us. Thinking back… I’m _kicking_ myself for messing this up... because Keith, he’s so special.”

“Yup.”

“He seems so tough on the outside, and I mean, don’t get me wrong, he _is_. Tough I mean. If I’m being honest, it’s one of the things that makes him so hot…” Lance mumbled the last part more to himself.

“Yup.”  

“But he’s also… he’s so _sweet._ In his own way. He… he let himself be vulnerable with me, and I—” Lance let out a frustrated huff. “He deserves to be happy.”

“Yup.”

“If I don’t… if I can’t make him happy, if what I did was too much for Keith to get over… then I don’t deserve him.”

“Yup.”

Lance shot Slav a filthy look.

“Aren’t you meant to be some sort of genius? All you’ve done is agree with everything I’ve said,” he snapped.

“Yup.”

A cold nugget of doubt crept into Lance’s mind.

“You’re absolutely _sure_ that you’re Slav?”

“Yup.”

“...Or does Shiro have the real Slav?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, shit.”

They turned a corner, and came face to face with a hulking, mean-faced Galra, with weird glowy vials of liquid protruding from his shoulders, and two extra mechanical arms.

Before Lance could raise his bayard, he was seized in a giant fist, arms trapped by his sides.

“Kidnapper!” the Galra bellowed.

“Oh, shit,” Lance squeaked again.  

“ _Okay, I’m back_ ,” chimed in Pidge over Lance’s comm. “ _What’s going—oh shit!_ ”

The giant hand squeezed Lance tighter, forcing him to let out a choked gasp as all the air was crushed from his lungs. The Galra lifted him right off his feet, bringing him up to eye-level, so he could scrutinize his face.

“ _What’s going on! Pidge? Lance?_ ” said Shiro over the comms.

“ _The Warden caught Lance. I’m on my way!_ ” answered Pidge.

“A Paladin of Voltron,” said the Warden, his foul smelling breath wafting over Lance’s face, making him gag.

He writhed as hard as he could, but he still couldn’t _breathe_.

“Did he frighten you, Laika?” cooed the Warden, turning his attention to not-Slav, who was now sitting on his haunches, looking entirely unbothered. Not-Slav scratched at one ear lazily with a hind-leg… like a _pet_.

_Oh shit._

“Yup.”

Black spots crowded Lance’s vision until he couldn’t see, couldn’t even struggle for the air he so desperately needed.

“Let’s go find the Paladin’s friends, my pet.”

Lance’s last thought was of Keith—he’d never have the chance to apologize and make everything up to him if he died—and then he passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Lance came to, he was lying on the floor, facedown, with no idea how much time had passed.

He groaned, and rolled over to sit up, cradling his head with one hand. People were yelling all around him, and at him through his comms. For a moment Lance could only register it as unintelligible noise pulsing through his aching head. It felt like he'd been dropped on it, more than once.

 _“Get back here you—_ ”

 _“PIDGE_!”

 _Shiro._ That was _Shiro_ screaming. And then, another voice. High and pained and frightened. _Pidge._

Lance looked up, and the scene that greeted his eyes was devastating.

He inexplicably found himself in the hangar where they’d hidden Green, and it looked nothing like it had when they arrived.

The once neatly stacked storage containers were toppled, spilling their contents all over the place. Pieces of torn-apart drone littered the floor too. There had been a fight.

And in the middle of it all, Pidge. Tiny, tiny, Pidge, kneeling in a puddle of her own blood, a long steel pipe protruding through one of her shoulders. Lance watched her cough, blood dribbling down her chin, and gasped. He felt adrenaline flood his veins at the sight.

_Oh god. She’s been stabbed right through. How did this happened?_

“Stay away from her!” roared Shiro. He was fighting the warden at the far end of the room with a ferocity that was frightening... but the warden had four arms. He landed a hit with one of his mechanical fists, sending Shiro flying back towards Pidge.

They needed to get out of here. Pidge needed immediate medical attention or she would bleed out right in front of his eyes. Lance had to _do_ something!

Miraculously, he found his bayard handle not far from where he was lying. He transformed it into his trusty blaster immediately to lay down some cover fire for Shiro as he staggered back to his feet.

“Lance!” Shiro exclaimed in surprise. He shook the surprise off quickly. “We need to leave. Lay down cover, follow us and stay close.”

Carefully, Shiro scooped Pidge into his arms and ran for the Green Lion, while Lance did as he was told, shooting and sticking close.

Green let down her barrier for them and opened her mouth, and they rushed inside.

“Lance, shoot the control panel for the hangar doors,” ordered Shiro.

Lance didn’t dare miss. Time stretched as he aimed and fired with calm hands that seemed to be acting separately to him. And then, Green was closing her mouth, and they were sucked out into space.

In Green’s cockpit, Shiro set Pidge down carefully on the floor, holding her upright so she wouldn’t keel over and impale herself further. She was pale, and her eyelids fluttered weakly as her blood dripped to the floor with a horrible _plip-plip_ sound. The beginning of another bloody red puddle.

“Pidge—w-will she be okay?” asked Lance, voice hushed and tearful.

“Get me the first aid kit,” ordered Shiro, making Lance jump and rush to obey.

The contents of the kit was frustrating. The supplies were labeled in Altean, most of their uses unknown, _unfathomable_ , but Shiro recognized bandages and fished them out.

Pidge let out a pained whimper.

“Sh-Shiro, h-hurts,” she whispered, voice as thin as gossamer.

“Pidge, you’re gonna be okay—”

Shiro was interrupted by the whole cockpit shaking violently—a direct hit from some sort of laser cannon—and Pidge _screamed_ in agony as she was jostled.

They were within range of the prison’s defenses still, and the Green Lion was offline. Without Pidge available to pilot, they were sitting ducks.

“Hold her, do what you can about the bleeding. Pressure on the wound. Keep her awake,” barked Shiro.

Shiro waited only long enough for Lance to take the bandages from him and kneel beside Pidge to support her, before running to the pilot’s seat.

“Shiro, what are you doing?” called Lance, frantically maneuvering the bandages to press them against Pidge’s wound. Her blood soaked into the fabric immediately—Lance could feel it, slippery against his fingertips.

Pidge started to cry.

“H-hurts, Lance. Don’t—”

“Shh, I know, Pidge. I know, I’m sorry,” said Lance, voice cracking. He felt so useless.  

“Green, I know I’m not your pilot. But, _please,”_ murmured Shiro, voice breaking with desperation. “She needs help, let me take her home.”

There was a horrible moment where they just hung there, the cockpit totally devoid of light and Green’s presence.

And then she came back to life.

“Thank you,” said Shiro emphatically, voice breaking on the words. Lance had never heard him sound so relieved.

Shiro took control of the Green Lion, and sent them hurtling back to the castle as fast and smooth as he could manage in a lion that wasn’t his own.

All the while, Lance did his best to prevent Pidge’s blood from leaving her body, whispering encouragements and promises as they went.  

“You’re gonna be fine, just a little longer. Shiro’s taking us back, stay with me.”

Shiro hailed the castle the second they were within range, and asked that Coran and Allura prepare a pod.

By the time they arrived, Lance’s suit was slick with Pidge’s blood. It was bright against the crisp white of his armor, and she was no longer responsive. She didn’t even let out any more pained whimpers; the only way Lance could tell that she was alive, was because she was still breathing.

Shiro landed Green with a hurried but sincere _“thank you,”_ before hurrying over to help Lance lift her.

Under normal circumstances, Shiro, or even Lance would be able to carry her easily themselves; Pidge was very slight. But because they wanted to avoid disturbing the metal pole sticking out of her shoulder, they wordlessly took a side each, before hurrying to the infirmary as fast as they could.

When they burst in dramatically, exactly like something from a medical drama, Coran and Allura’s faces twisted into matching expressions of horrified shock.

“Hunk? What happened to Hunk?” blurted Shiro, confusing Lance until he followed his gaze to an occupied pod.

Hunk was pale and still, and it looked _wrong_. Was that what Lance had looked like during his stint in a pod?

Coran snapped out of his stupor first. “Hunk will be fine, just a broken leg,” he said, waving Shiro’s concern off.

What a fucking _relief._

“We need to get that out before she goes into the Pod,” he continued grimly. “Allura and I will hold her steady, and then I need you, Shiro, to use your arm to cut each end down to a more manageable length. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” answered Shiro, already shifting to allow Allura to take his place.

“W-what about me? What should I do?” asked Lance, as Coran took Shiro’s side. Pidge looked so tiny, suspended like a lifeless doll between the two Alteans...

“You can go clean up. Pidge is going to be just fine, but this isn’t going to be pleasant. There’s a good lad,” said Coran, barely sparing Lance a glance. Pidge was rightfully their focus.  

It felt wrong to leave, but at the same time, the idea of hearing that rod leave Pidge’s body set his teeth on edge. His mouth filled with saliva, and his stomach twisted like it was full of writhing eels. If he stayed, it would only be a matter of time before the ‘eels’ came back up, and that was the last thing anyone needed.

He slipped out the door and into the corridor.

Although adrenaline was still burning through his veins, making his muscles twitch with unused energy, his legs were suddenly as heavy as cinder blocks. He only managed to take a few steps before he had to lean against the wall, and before he knew it he’d slid down, sitting, with his face buried in his knees.   

What a colossal fuck up. He’d been unconscious when most of the shit went down, and couldn’t say for certain what had happened when he was out, but he didn’t need to see or experience it to know that it was all his fault.

He ripped off his helmet, letting it clatter to the floor carelessly, hands clutching at his head.

They didn’t manage to bring back Slav, and Pidge had nearly died. They _failed_.

 _“F-fuck_ ,” he choked out, breathing turning ragged, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Pidge was so young, and he’d have taken her place in a heartbeat.

He tugged at his own hair, the pain of it grounding him when everything else seemed so uncertain.

“Lance? Holy sh— _Lance!_ ”

“K-Keith?” Lance whimpered, raising his face from his knees.

Keith looked beautiful. Like everything Lance hadn’t known he wanted, standing at the end of the corridor with those big eyes practically glowing with worry.

Keith rushed forward, falling to his knees in front of Lance.

“What—what _happened?_ You’re covered in blood, are you hurt?” he questioned urgently.

He tipped Lance’s face up with a thumb on his chin, and then his fingers were in Lance’s hair, carefully easing away Lance’s stiff hands, and checking his scalp for injuries.

Lance hissed when Keith’s fingers gently prodded at a lump on the back of his head.

“Concussion,” Keith murmured to himself. He then tenderly cupped Lance’s face with both hands, and looked into his face with so much honest concern, that Lance had to squeeze his eyes shut. He felt the wetness in his eyes spill over, only for Keith to wipe it away with his thumbs.

Why did that action make him choke on a sob? Why was Keith so _good,_ and why had Lance been so blind to it when he had that goodness in the palm of his hand? Why had he let it slip through his fingers so carelessly?

“Lance, where else are you hurt?” Keith demanded gently.

“I—I’m _not_ ,” Lance sniffed.

“Are you sure?” Keith didn’t sound like he believed him. “All this blood—?”

“N-not mine.”

“Then _whose—?”_

 _“Pidge_. It’s Pidge’s.”

Keith gasped and his hands left Lance’s face, and Lance felt selfish for mourning the contact.

A moment later Keith grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him a little so Lance was forced to look at him. “What happened? Is she okay?! What about Shiro?!”

“Shiro’s fine, only Pidge got hurt. They’re-they’re putting her a pod. Coran said she’d be okay.”

Keith sagged in relief. “What about you?”

“Coran said to-to go clean up—”

“No, I meant, are you okay?”

Was he okay? Lance shook his head. He wasn’t. Not by a longshot.

He’d fucked up royally, _twice_ in less than a week. The first time he’d hurt Keith so badly he’d _cried,_ and the second time Pidge had nearly bled out, and now she needed a cryopod.

The weight of Lance’s disappointment in himself was _crushing,_ but seeing Keith’s, concerned, open face caused a raw desperation to claw up his throat. He needed to say something, _anything._ He knew he wasn’t entitled to forgiveness, or understanding, but the urge to talk, to split himself open for Keith, was overwhelming. 

“Keith, I’m so sorry,” he said. He could feel his face crumpling in misery and guilt, making it hard to choke out more words, hard to see Keith’s face through his tears. He tried contain them— _he_ didn’t deserve to cry over this, _he_ was the one who’d hurt Keith—but he was powerless to stop them. His eyes stung, his head ached, and maybe he _did_ have a concussion after all...?  

He reached up to snag one of of Keith’s wrists, afraid that Keith might run away from him again.

“I’m _sorry,”_ he repeated, “I never meant to hurt you, you deserved so much better from me—”

“Lance, it’s fine.” Keith’s expression was pinched with discomfort, and Lance didn’t want to upset him further, but he needed to tell Keith this. Keith needed to hear it.

“It _isn’t,”_ he insisted. “You don’t understand, I’ve—I’ve always been a romantic.” With a huge rattling breath, Lance forced himself to pull it together.

“I always daydreamed about having a girlfriend or a boyfriend one day, and then I had _you,”_ he continued in a more even tone, wiping his eyes and willing them to stay dry. “I _had_ you, and I was too blind to see it. You’re everything I imagined— _better_ than what I imagined.” 

Keith looked stunned, lips parted, and eyes wide. He deserved to be told he was loved every day. He deserved be told how good he was, how precious and wonderful. Someone else, whoever Keith was with before, the not-boyfriend, should have told him. It was heartbreaking that it was such a surprise to him.

“You were—you were so _good_ to me, Keith. You’re actually... so sweet. You deserve to be happy—the way being with you made _me_ happy. Because you did, you _did_ make me happy. So I’m sorry I ruined things. I’m sorry I was such an idiot, and that I made you sad.”

Keith shook his head like Lance’s words were foul tasting medicine he was refusing to swallow.

“I misunderstood, I _always_ misunderstand people—”

“No, baby,” said Lance gently, shaking his head. The pet name slipped out accidentally, he couldn’t help it. Keith was blinking rapidly, like he was trying to hold back tears, and when he looked sad like that, Lance couldn’t help but want to comfort him. He gentled his grip on Keith’s wrist, stroking his pulse-point with his thumb. He could feel how fast Keith’s heart was beating… “You didn’t misunderstand. Me not getting it? That isn’t on you.”

Keith looked suspicious, like Lance was trying to convince him that a lump a coal was actually gold. “Then… then _why?”_ he asked.

_I don’t believe you. Prove it._

Lance sighed. Keith deserved an answer, but that required painful self-reflection on Lance’s part. But it was self-reflection that Lance was completely willing to undertake. If it helped Keith understand, if it helped him feel better, it was worth the discomfort.

“It’s—I’m not trying to make excuses for—for what happened, but where you’re concerned, I guess I’ve always had a mental block.”

“You and everyone else in my life apparently,” muttered Keith bitterly.

Jesus. The people of Keith’s past had really done a number on him, hadn’t they? Lance had just unwittingly delivered a devastating final blow, and it _killed_ him.

“I can only speak for myself,” he said helplessly. “Listen, back at the Garrison you were kind of everything I wanted to be, and I’ve been… jealous, I guess. And insecure. I mean, you _must_ know. You broke every flight record, you never noticed anyone around you, you always worked _alone._ It seemed impossible that you might genuinely, actually feel… feel, well, _anything_ , so I—I didn’t let myself feel anything either.”

“So you h-hated me since the Garrison, and you hated me the whole time I let you—let you—” Keith’s eyes were so glassy they looked like they might spill over at any moment, and Lance was stricken.

 _“No_ , Keith. I’ve _never_ hated you!” Lance reached up to snag Keith’s other wrist, forcing Keith to face him.

“I _never_ hated you,” he repeated.

Keith just shrugged and sniffed, refusing to meet Lance’s desperate gaze.

“I already said it’s fine, you don’t have to say any of this just to—to make me feel better. It’s _fine,_ and I’m _fine.”_

His hands were shaking. Keith _wasn’t_ fine.

“I’m not _just saying_ anything, I meant every word I said,” said Lance desperately.

“Well, I don’t know what you want from me!” snapped Keith.

“I don’t want _anything_ from you—”

“Then why are we even talking about this!?” Keith jerked his wrists out of Lance’s grip, sending himself overbalancing backwards, and flat onto his ass.

They stared at each other for a beat, eye level—Lance pleading, Keith overwhelmed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Lance softly, as if he were speaking to a skittish wild animal. “I meant I don’t want you to do anything for my sake, okay? I want you to do whatever will make you happy. If that’s being with me, then I’ll be overjoyed. If it isn’t, then I’ll kick myself forever for losing you.”

“It _hurt_ Lance,” Keith blurted, shaking his head. “You can’t just—you can’t _toy_ with me, I d-don’t wanna _compete,_ I _never_ wanted to. You already won, so—so you can _stop—”_ Keith sprang to his feet, body coiled with tension.

Lance knew that when that tension snapped, Keith would _flee,_ so he forced himself to stagger to his feet too.

“Keith, I’m not—I’m not—” Lance’s head swam, and his temples pounded. He’d gotten up too fast, and his head was painfully reminding him of the blows it had taken when he was unconscious. Without the adrenaline from earlier keeping him upright and functioning, he swayed to the side unsteadily.

 _“Lance!”_ Keith cried, grounding him with a strong hand on his bicep, cursing under his breath about concussions.

“I’m fine,” said Lance dismissively, shaking his head to clear it, and forcing himself to straighten up. He looked Keith in the eye; he _needed_ to convey how seriously, how _honestly,_ he meant his next statement.

“I’m not toying with you, and I’m not trying to compete with you. I know what I said to Hunk, and even though it started out with the dumb rivalry, it hasn’t been about that for _months,_ okay? I panicked when Hunk asked about you because it made me finally see my own fucking feelings for what they were, and I _lied._ I lied, Keith. _”_

Keith chewed on his bottom lip. Lance had never seen him so conflicted and unsure, and he _hated_ that he was reason for it.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you expect me to do,” said Keith. “I can’t pretend I’m not—not _scared_ that you’ll—you’ll—”

“That I’ll hurt you,” said Lance softly, finishing Keith’s sentence for him.

Keith gave a tight little nod. “I can’t do it again,” he admitted, shoulders creeping up to his ears.  

Lance managed to dredge up a reassuring smile, even though his insides felt like they were crumbling into dust.

“You don’t have to do anything. We can just be friends, Keith. Or teammates. Or nothing. This isn’t an all-or-nothing scenario. Whatever capacity you want me in, whatever makes you comfortable, that’s what we’ll do. If you need more time, more space, that’s fine too.”

Keith gazed at Lance for a beat, searching his face, and whatever he saw made him deflate with a sigh.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” he allowed gruffly, and Lance’s heart skipped a beat.

Keith cleared his throat. “C’mon. You need to clean up,” he said, taking hold of one of Lance’s wrists and leading him away.

Lance went where Keith led; he’d follow this boy anywhere.  

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long this took, and for my inconsistent formatting, please forgive me lol
> 
> I'm gonna tentatively say there's at _least_ 2 chapters left, but probably more like 3 or 4? We're nearing the end! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @greenteafiend on tumblr, come say hi if you like [here](https://greenteafiend.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> Also, check out this amazing [art](http://space-mom-lance.tumblr.com/post/175801931405/right-i-like-that-also-just-how-it-feels) that [Reika](http://space-mom-lance.tumblr.com/) on tumblr made for chapter 7 of this story!! :D
> 
> Also, [this](https://lynnielie.tumblr.com/post/179532031227/from-the-fanfiction-tactics-over-on-archive-of-our) amazing art by [Lynnielie](https://lynnielie.tumblr.com/)


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